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This large paper edition, consisting of 125 copies, on 
Holland paper, all of which are numbered, was 
printed in the month of October, 1884. 



This copy is No 



..^. 




. (J^.(X£'^cZ^^ yi^ 



against 

ittelancl)alg. 



Adalmar. — "An Antidote! 

Restore him whom thy poisons have laid low." . . . 

Isbrand. — "A very good and thirsty melody; 

What say you to it, my Com-t Poet?" 

Wolfram. — *' Good melody ! when I am sick o' mornings, 
With a horn-spoon tinkling my porridge pot, 
'T is a brave ballad." 

T, I. Beddoes^ Death's Jesi Book, Acts IV. and V. 



An Antidote 

against 

MELANCHOLY 

Compounded of Choice Toems, Jovial Songs, 
{Menv "Ballads, and IV iffy Tarodies. 
Moft pleasant and diverting to read. 




^r ^EW-Y(JIiK. 

Printed by T. L. D. V. for PRATT MANUFACT- 
URING COMPANY, and are to he had at their 
shop in "Broadway, V^o. 46, near 'Bowling Green. 
CHRISTMAS, MDCCCLXXXIV. 



T/f 



hi 
1^ 



Sweet recreation barr'd, what doth ensue, 
But moody and dull melancholy 
(Kinsman to grim and comfortless despair), 
And, at her heels, a huge infectious troop 
Of pale distemperatures, and foes to life ? 

Shakspere — Comedy of Errors, Act V.^Sc. 






Copyright , 1884, by Pratt Manufacturing CoMPAN^ 



To the 

READER 



COUTiTGOUS T{G<^JiT>6Ti 



f ^^T^fg^ 



g^^HY grateful reception of our for- 
S% mer collection hath induced us 



^1 
m 

to a second essay of the same nature; 
and, as we are confident it will be 
found in no wise inferiour to the for- 
mer in worth, so we assure ourselves it 
shall at least equal it in its fortunate 
acceptation. It being our design rather 



to make such a collection as shall please 
all Complexions, Ages, and Constitutions 
of either Sexes, than to gratify our vanity 
by a display of learning, there will be 
found here poems of all kinds, pastoral, 
lyric, convivial, grave, and gay, but none 
to ofFend any. To gather these poems, 
for many of which we have gone to the 
original sources, has been a long under- 
taking; but if only this little book, which 
we now present to thee, shall make good 
its claim to being An Antidote Against 
Melancholy, though to but one of its 
readers, wc shall feel that our labour has 
been sufficiently rewarded. We have of 
purpose kept the number of these, our 
selections, wathin small compass, prefer- 
ring to serve up these delicates by frugal 
messes, as aiming at thy satisfaction, not 
satiety. But our design being more upon 



thy judgment than thy patience, more 
to delight thee than to detain thee by a 
tedious (and we fear seldom-read) epistle, 
we will draw the curtain that shuts from 
thy view what we have prepared; first, 
however, acknowledging our obligation 
to Henry Holt & Co., Charles Scrib- 
ner's Sons, and White, Stokes & Allen 
for courtesies extended during the com- 
pilation of this work. Finally, there 
remains but the pleasant duty of return- 
ing grateful thanks for thy patronage in 
the past, and of wishing thee a Merrie 
Christmas. 

Thy much obliged, and 
Most obedient servants, 

The "Publishers. 



Cast care away, let sorrow cease, 

A fig for melancholy ! 
Let 's laugh and sing, or, if you please, 

We '11 frolic with sweet Dolly. 

Old English Song. 



CORIDON'S SONG. 



From " Rosalynde : Euphues Golden Legacie, 

rp„ _,...„ T ^r^rv h T. L. Gent. London, isg2." It was this 

1 HOMAS i^ODGt, Pastoral Romance that afforded Shakspere 

1557^" ^^2 5? the hints for his exquisite Comedy of '■'As 

You Like It." 



ABLITHE and bonny country -lass, 
Heigh ho, bonny lass; 
Sate sighing on the tender grass. 

And weeping said : Will none come woo me ? 
A smicker boy, a Hther swain. 
Heigh ho, a smicker swain; 
That in his love was wanton fain. 

With smiling looks straight came unto her. 

When as the wanton wench espied. 

Heigh ho, when she espied 
The means to make herself a bride, 

She simpered smooth like bonny-bell. 
The swain that saw her squint-eyed kind, 

Heigh ho, squint-eyed kind; 
His arms about her body twined, 

And said: Fair lass, how fare ye, well? 



.12 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

The country kit said : Well, forsooth, 

Heigh ho, well, forsooth; 
But that I have a longing tooth, 

A longing tooth that makes me cry ; 
Alas (said he), what gars thy grief? 

Heigh ho, what gars thy grief? 
A wound (quoth she) without relief, 

I fear a maid that I shall die. 

If that be all, the Shepherd said, 

Heigh ho, the Shepherd said ; 
I '11 make thee wive it, gentle maid, 

And so recure thy maladie : 
Hereon they kiss'd with many an oath, 

Heigh ho, many an oath; 
And 'fore god Pan did plight their troth. 

So to the church apace they hie. 

And God send every pretty peate, 

Heigh ho, the pretty peate. 
That fears to die of this conceit, 

So kind a friend to help at last: 
Then maids shall never long again. 

Heigh ho, to long again ; 
When they find ease for such a pain, 

Thus my roundelay is past, 



ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL V. 7j— 



THE SHEPHERD'S DAFFODIL. 



The following stanzas, by Michael Drayton, are 

found iti one of his Pastorals, bearing the 

Michael Drayton, whimsical title of " idea. The Shepheard's 

ir5'J— l6';i. Garland, fas hiofied in nine Ec legs. Rowland's 

Sacrifice to the Nine Muses," 1593. This song 
occurs in the Ninth Eclogue. 



Batte. — /^"^ ORBO as thou cam'st this way 
Vjr By yonder little hill, 
Or as thou through the fields did'st stray, 
Saw'st thou my Daffodil? 

She 's in a frock of Lincoln green, 
Which colour likes her sight, 

And never hath her beauty seen 
But through a veil of white. 

Than roses richer to behold 
That trim up lovers' bowers, 

The pansy and the marigold. 
Though Phoebus' paramours. 

GoRBO. — Thou well describ'st the Daffodil ; 
It is not full an hour 
Since by the spring near yonder hill 
I saw that lovely flower. 



—14 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

Batte. — Yet my fair flower thou did'st not meet 
Nor news of her did'st bring, 
And yet my Daffodil 's more sweet 
Than that by yonder spring. 



GoRBO. — I saw a shepherd that does keep 
In yonder field of HHes, 
Was making (as he fed his sheep) 
A wreath of daifodilHes. 



Batte. — Yet, Gorbo^ thou delud'st me still; 
My flower thou did'st not see, 
For, know, my pretty Daffodil 
Is worn of none but me. 



To show itself but near her feet 

No lily is so bold, 
Except to shade her from the heat 

Or keep her from the cold. 

GoRBO. — Through yonder vale as I did pass, 
Descending from the hill, 
I met a smirking bonny lass; 
They call her Daffodil. 

Whose presence as along she went 
The pretty flowers did greet, 

As though their heads they downward bent 
With homage to her feet, 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 15— 



And all the shepherds that were nigh, 

From top of every hill 
Unto the valleys loud did cry, 

"There goes sweet DaffodiV 

Batte. — Aye, gentle shepherd, now with joy 
Thou all my flocks dost fill; 
That 's she alone, kind shepherd's boy; 
Let us to Daffodil. 



^i6 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



LULLABY SONG. 



From " The Pleasant Comodie of Patient Gris- 
^^ sill." 1603. By Thomas Dekker, Henry 

U NCERTAIN. Chettle, and William Haughton. 



GOLDEN slumbers kiss your eyes, 
Smiles awake you when you rise; 
Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry, 
And I will sing a lullaby. 

Care is heavy, therefore sleep you, 
You are care, and care must keep you; 

Sleep, pretty wantons, do not cry. 
And I will sing a lullaby. 

Rock them, rock them, lullaby. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 17- 



A DITTY. 



Quoted by George Puitenha})i hi his "Arte of 

English Poesy, is8q," as an instance of^Epi- 

Qttj Putttp 'sT-nvpv 7no7ic,or t fie Love Burdeti." In the "Arcadia, 

MK raiLli^ oiu^ii-y, JJqS," however, these lines appear as a sofi- 

1 5 54~ 1 5""* fii^t by the omission of the refrain as here, arid 

the addition of six lines ; the final one being 
the refrain. 



MY true love hath my heart, and I have his, 
By just exchange one to the other given : 
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss, 
There never was a better bargain driven: 

My true love hath my heart, and I have his. 

His heart in me keeps him and me in one. 

My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides 

He loves my heart, for once it was his own, 
I cherish his because in me it abides : 

My true love hath my heart, and I have his. 



•I 8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 



DRINKING SONG. 

This excelletit old Drinking So7!g;, which Warton 

JOHN StIT T ^ terms " the first chanso7i a hoire of any merit 

, ' in our language," is Jrom "A ryght pithy, 

I543~^"^7* pleasaunt, afid merie Cotnedie : hitytuled 

Gajuvier Gnrtons Nedle." Lofidon, IS75- 



I CANNOT eat but little meat, 
My stomach is not good; 
But sure, 1 think that I can drink 

With him that wears a hood. 
Tho' I go bare, take ye no care, 

I am nothing a cold, 
I stuff my skin so full within 
Of jolly good ale and old. 

Back and side go bare, go bare, 
Both foot ajid hand go cold y 

But, belly, God send thee good ale enough, 
Whether it be new or old. 

I love no roast but a nut-brown toast, 

And a crab ' laid in the fire ; 
A little bread shall do me stead, 

Much bread I not desire. 



' Crab-apple. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. ig— 

No frost, nor snow, nor wind, I trow, 

Can hurt me if I wold,^ 
I am so wrapt, and throwly^ lapi 

Of jolly good ale and old. 

Back and side go bare, etc. 

And Tib, my wife, that as her life 

Loveth well good ale to seek, 
Full oft drinks she, till ye may see 

The tears run down her cheek : 
Then doth she troul to me the bow). 

Even as a maltworm should, 
And saith, " Sweetheart, I took my part 

Of this jolly good ale and old." 
Back and side go bare, etc. 

Now let them drink till they nod and wink. 

Even as good fellows should do; 
They shall not miss to have the bliss 

Good ale doth bring men to; 
And all poor souls that have scoured bowls. 

Or have them lustily troul'd, 
God save the lives of them and their wives, 

Whether they be young or old. 
Back and side go bare, etc. 



Willed. ^ Thoroughly. 



—20 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 



DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST. 



These fine moral stanzas ivrrc origitially iti- 

TaMES Shirley tended fij' a solemn fiineral song in " The 

^ Cc\f\—i f\f\f\ ' Contention of Ajax and Ulysses.'' i6sg. It 

^ 5""^ ^ OOD. ^^ f rt/V/ to have been afiivoriic song with King 

Charles II. 



THE glories of our birth and state 
Are shadows, not substantial things 
There is no armour against fate ; 
Death lays his icy hands on kings : 
Sceptre and crown 
Must tumble down, 
And in the dust be equal made 
With the poor crooked scythe and spade. 



Some men with swords may reap the field, 
And plant fresh laurels where they kill ; 
But their strong nerves at last must yield. 
They tame but one another still. 
Early or late, 
They, stoop to fate, 
And must give up their murm'ring breath 
When the pale captive creeps to death. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 21— 

The laurel withers on your brow, 

Then boast no more your mighty deeds, 
Upon Death's purple altar now 

See where the victor victim bleeds; 
All heads must come 
To the cold tomb : 
Only the actions of the just 
Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust. 



-22 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



A GENTLEMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL. 



From ' * Old- World Idylls, 18S3. " Mr. Dobson 
Attct^tm nriRcrvM belongs to that recc7ii class of English poets 

AUSTIN DOBSON, -who have reproduced the old French forms of 

Boni 1 040. verse in the rondeau, virelai, villanelle, bal- 

lade, etc. 



HE lived in that past Georgian day, 
When men were less inclined to say 
That "Time is Gold," and overlay 

With toil their pleasure; 
He held some land, and dwelt thereon, — 
Where, I forget, — the house is gone; 
His Christian name, I think, was John, — 
His surname, Leisure. 



Reynolds has painted him, — a face 
Filled with a fine, old-fashioned grace. 
Fresh-coloured, frank, with ne'er a trace 

Of trouble shaded; 
The eyes are blue, the hair is drest 
In plainest w^ay, — one hand is prest 
Deep in a flapped canary vest. 

With buds brocaded. 



ANTIDOTE AGATNST MELANCHOLY. 23- 

He wears a brown old Brunswick coat, 
With silver buttons, — round his throat, 
A soft cravat; — in all you note 

An elder fashion. 
A strangeness, which, to us who shme 
In shapely hats, — whose coats combine 
All harmonies of hue and line. 

Inspires compassion. 



He Hved so long ago, you see ! 
Men were untravelled then, but we, 
Like Ariel, post o'er land and sea 

With careless parting; 
He found it quite enough for him 
To smoke his pipe in " garden trim," 
And watch, about the fish-tank's brim. 

The swallows darting. 

He liked the well- wheel's creaking tongue,— 
He liked the thrush that stopped and sung, 
He liked the drone of flies among 

His netted peaches. 
He liked to watch the sunlight fall 
Athwart his ivied orchard wall ; 
Or pause to catch the cuckoo's call 

Beyond the beeches. 

His were the times of Paint and Patch, 
And yet no Ranelagh could match 
The sober doves that round his thatch 
Spread tails and sidled; 



^24 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

He liked their ruffling, puffed content, — 
For him their drowsy wheehngs meant 
More than a Mall of Beaux that bent 
Or Belles that bridled. 



Not that, in truth, when Hfe began 
He shunned the flutter of the fan ; 
He, too, had maybe " pinked his man " 

In Beauty's quarrel; 
But now his " fervent youth " had flown 
Where lost things go ; and he was grown 
As staid and slow-paced as his own 

Old liunter, Sorrel. 

Yet still he loved the chase, and held 
That no composer's score excelled 
The merry horn, when Sweetlip swelled 

Its jovial riot; 
But most his measured words of praise 
Caressed the angler's easy ways, — 
His idly meditative days, — 

His rustic diet. 

Not that his ''meditating" rose 
Beyond a sunny summer doze; 
He never troubled his repose 

With fruitless prying; 
But held, as law for high and low, 
What God withholds no man can know. 
And smiled away inquiry so. 

Without replying. 



ANTW OTE A GAINST MELANCHOL Y. 25- 



We read -— alas, how much we read ! — 
The jumbled strifes of creed and creed 
With endless controversies feed 

Our groaning tables; 
His books — and they sufficed him — were 
Cotton's " Montaigne," " The Grave" of Blair, 
A "Walton" — much the worse for wear, 

And "^sop's Fables." 

One more,— "The Bible." Not that he 
Had searched its page as deep as we; 
No sophistries could make him see 

Its slender credit; 
It may be that he could not count 
The sires and sons to Jesse's fount, — 
He liked the " Sermon on the Mount," — 

And more, he read it. 

Once he had loved, but failed to wed, 
A red-cheeked lass, who long was dead; 
His ways were far too slow, he said. 

To quite forget her; 
And still, when time had turned him gray 
The earhest hawthorn buds in May 
Would find his lingering feet astray, 

Where first he met her. 



"/;? Cxlo Qiiies'' heads the stone 
On Leisure's grave,— now little known, 
A tangle of wild-rose has grown 
So thick across it ; 
4 



—26 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

The " Benefactions " still declare 
He left the clerk an elbow-chair, 
And " Twelve Pence Yearly to Prepare 
A Christmas Posset." 

Lie softly, Leisure! Doubtless you, 
With too serene a conscience drew 
Your easy breath, and slumbered through 

The gravest issue ; 
But we, to whom our age allows 
Scarce space to wipe our weary brows, 
Look down upon your narrow house, 

Old friend, and miss you ! 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 27— 



FAIR AMORET IS GONE ASTRAY." 



William Congreve, 
1 6 70- 1 729. 



FAIR Amoret is gone astray, 
Pursue, and seek her, every lover ; 
I '11 tell the signs by which you may 
The wandering shepherdess discover. 

Coquet and coy at once her air, 

Both studied, tho' both seem neglected; 

Careless she is, with artful care, 
Affecting to seem unaffected. 

With skill her eyes dart every glance. 

Yet change so soon you 'd ne'er suspect them ; 

For she 'd persuade they wound by chance, 
Though certain aim and art direct them. 



She Hkes herself, yet others hates 
For that which in herself she prizes ; 

And, while she laughs at them, forgets 
She is the thing that she despises. 



•28 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



ON WOMEN. 



Front " Wifs Recreations, Augmented with 
Unknown. ingeiuous conceites /or the IVittie, and Merrie 

medecines for the Melancholic. J 640." 



WOMEN are books, and men the readers be, 
In whom oft times they great Errata see ; 
Here sometimes we a blot, there we espy 
A leaf misplac'd, at least a line awry ; 
If they are books, I wish that my wife were 
An almanack, to change her every year. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 29— 



SONG. 

Macaulay speaks of Sir Charles Sedley as " one 
of the most brilliant and profligate wits of i/ie 
Sir Charles Sedley, Restoration." He was the author of three 

1639—1701. plays, " The Mulberry Gardeft," 1668 ; "An- 

tony and Cleopatra," 1677 ; afid"Bellainira," 
16S7. 



PHYLLIS, men say that all my vows 
Are to thy fortune paid ; 
Alas, my heart he little knows 
Who thinks my love a trade. 

Were I of all these woods the lord. 

One berry from thy hand 
More real pleasure would afford 

Than all my large command. 



—JO 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



THE COUNTRY LASS. 



It would be difficult to name many ballads 

■which have had a larger share of popularity 

than " The Country Lass." It was first 

Martin Parker. printed for the Assigns of Thomas Symcocke, 

about 1620; and was the composition 0/ 
Martin Parker, a popular writer 0/ ballads 
o/that titne. 



To a daintie new note, which if you can hit, 
There 's another tune will as well fit. 

That 's the mother beguiles the daughter. 



ALTHOUGH I am a country lass, 
A lofty mind I bear — a, 
I think myself as good as those 

That gay apparel wear — a, 
My coat is made of homely gray, 

Yet is my skin as soft — a, 
As those that with the chiefest wines 
Do bathe their bodies oft — a. 
Down, down, derry, derry down, 

Heigh dotun, a down, a down a, 
A derry, derry, derry, derry, down, 
Heigh down, a down, a derry. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 31— 

What, though I keep my father's sheep ? 

A thing that must be done — a, 
A garland of the fairest flowers 

Shall shroud me from the sun — a, 
And when I see them feeding be, 

Where grass and flowers spring — a. 
Close by a crystal fountain side, 

I sit me down, and sing — a. 

Dow7iy down, derry^ deny dowJi, etc. 

Dame Nature crowns us with delight, 

Surpassing court or city. 
We pleasures take from morn to night. 

In sports and pastimes pretty : 
Your city dames in coaches ride 

Abroad for recreation, 
We country lasses hate their pride, 

And keep the country fashion. 
Dow 71^ dowft, derry, derry dowJt, etc. 

Your city wives lead wanton lives, 

And if they come i' th' country. 
They are so proud, that each one strives 

For to outbrave our gentry. 
We country lasses homely be ; 

For seat nor wall we strive not ; 
We are content with our degree ; 

Our debtors we deprive not. 

Down, dowji, derry, derry dowti, etc, 

I care not for a fan or mask. 

When Titan's heat reflecteth, 
A homely hat is all I ask. 

Which well my face protecteth ; 



.j2 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



Yet am I in my country guise, 

Esteemed lass as pretty, 
As those that every day devise 

New shapes in court and city. 
Down, down, derry, derry doivn, etc. 

In every season of the year 

I undergo my labour, — 
No shower, nor wind, at all I fear, 

My limbs I do not favour ; 
If summer's heat my beauty stain, 

It makes me ne'er the sicker, 
Sith I can wash it off again 

With a cup of Christmas liquor. 
Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 



SECOND PART. 

At Christmas time, in mirth and glee, 

I dance with young men neatly. 
And who i' th' city like to me. 

Shall pleasure taste completely? 
No sport, but pride and luxury 

I' th' city can be found then, 
But bounteous hospitality 

r th' country doth abound then. 
Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 

V th' Spring my labour yields delight 
To walk i' th' merry morning. 

When Flora is (to please my sight) 
The ground with flowers adorning ; 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 33- 

With merry lads to make the hay 

I go, and do not grumble, 
My work doth seem to be but play. 

When with young men I tumble. 
Down, down, derry, derry dowft, etc. 



The lark and thrush from briar to bush 

Do leap, and skip and sing — a. 
And all is then to welcome in 

The long and look'd for Spring — a; 
We fear not Cupid's arrows keen. 

Dame Venus we defy — a, 
Diana is our honour'd queen. 

And her we magnify — a. 

Dowji, down, derry, derry down, etc. 



That which your city damsels scorn, 

We hold our chiefest jewel, 
Without, to work at hay and corn. 

Within, to bake and brew well ; 
To keep the dairy decently, 

And all things clean and neatly. 
Your city minions do defy, — 

Their scorn we weigh not greatly. 
Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 



When we together a milking go 
With pails upon our heads — a. 

And walking over woods and fields. 
Where grass and flowers spread — a, 

5 



—od ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



-34 



In honest pleasure we delight, 

Which makes our labour sweet — a, 

And mirth exceeds on every side 
When lads and lassies meet — a. 
Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 



Then do not scorn a country lass, 

Though she be plain and meanly. 
Who takes a country wench to wife 

(That goeth neat and cleanly) 
Is better sped, than if he wed 

A fine one from the city; 
For there they are so nicely bred. 

They must not work for pity. 

Down, down, derry, derry down, etc. 

I speak not this to that intent 

(As some may well conjecture), 
As though to wooing I were bent, — 
No, I ne'er learn'd Love's lecture; 
But what I sing is in defence 
Of all plain country lasses. 
Whose modest, honest innocence 
All city girls surpasses. 

Down, down, derry, derry down. 

Heigh down, a down, a down a, 
A derry, derry, derry, derry down, 
Heigh down, a down, a derry. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 35— 



WINIFREDA. 



" This beautiful address to conjugal love" says 

Bishop Percy, " a subject too much neglected 

by the libertine Muses, was, I believe, first 

printed in a vohime of '■MisceUa7ieotis Poems, 

Unknown. by Several hands, published by D. Lewis, 

172b, 8vo'." The authorship is unknowfi, 
though it has been ascribed, probably errone- 
ously, to Gilbert Cooper. 



AWAY ; let nought to love displeasing, 
My Winifreda, move your care ; 
Let nought delay the heavenly blessing, 
Nor squeamish pride, nor gloomy fear. 

What though no grants of royal donors 
With pompous titles grace our blood; 

We '11 shine in more substantial honors, 
And to be noble we '11 be good. 

Our name, while virtue thus we tender, 
Will sweetly sound where e'er 't is spoke ; 

And all the great ones they shall wonder 
How they respect such little folk. 

What though from fortune's lavish bounty 
No mighty treasures we possess; 

We '11 find within our pittance plenty. 
And be content without excess. 



-36 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 



Still shall each returning season 

Sufficient for our wishes give; 
For we will live a life of reason, 

And that 's the only life to live. 

Through youth and age in love excelling, 
We '11 hand in hand together tread ; 

Sweet-smiling peace shall crown our dwelling, 
And babes, sweet-smiling babes, our bed. 

How should I love the pretty creatures, 
While round my knees they fondly clung; 

To see them look their mother's features, 
To hear them lisp their mother's tongue. 

And when with envy time transported, 
Shall think to rob us of our joys. 

You '11 in your girls again be courted, 
And I '11 go wooing in my boys. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 37— 



THE VICAR OF BRAY. 



Unknown. 



Nichols, in his Select Poems, says that the Song 
of the Vicar of Bray " zuas written by a soldier 
in Colonel Fuller's troop of Dragoons, in the 
reign of George I." 



IN good King Charles's golden days, 
When loyalty no harm meant, 
A zealous high-church-man I was, 

And so I got preferment. 
To teach my flock I never miss'd, 

Kings are by God appointed; 
And damn'd are those that do resist, 
Or touch the Lord's Anointed. 
A7id this is law, I will maintain, 

Until my dying day, sir. 
That whatsoever king shall reign, 
1 7/ be the Vicar of Bray, sir. 

When Royal James obtain'd the crown, 
And popery came in fashion. 

The penal laws I hooted down, 
And read the Declaration : 



-38 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

The Church of Rome I found would fit 

Full well my constitution; 
And had become a Jesuit, 

But for the Revolution. 
And this is law, etc. 



When William was our King declar'd, 

To ease the nation's grievance, 
With this new wind about I steer'd 

And swore to him allegiance: 
Old principles I did revoke, 

Set conscience at a distance; 
Passive obedience was a joke, 

A jest was non-resistance. 
And this is law, etc. 



When gracious Anne became our queen. 

The Church of England's glory, 
Another face of things was seen, 

And I became a tory! 
Occasional conformists base, 

I damn'd their moderation ; 
And thought the church in danger was. 

By such prevarication. 
Atid this is law, etc. 



When George in pudding-time came o'er, 
And moderate men looked big, sir, 

I turn'd a cat-in-pan once more. 
And so became a whig, sir, 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 39— 



And thus preferment I procur'd 
From our new faiths-defender; 

And almost ev'ry day abjur'd 
The Pope and the Pretender. 
And this is law., etc. 

Th' illustrious house of Hanover, 

And Protestant succession ; 
To these I do allegiance swear — 

While they can keep possession : 
For in my faith and loyalty, 
I never more will faulter, 
And George my lawful king shall be - 
Until the times do alter. 

And this is law, I will maintain.. 

Until my dying day., sir., 
That whatsoever king shall reign, 
I 'II be the Vicar of Bray, sir. 



-40 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 



MY GRANDMOTHER. 

(suggested by a picture by MR. ROMNEY.) 

From '■'London Lyrics. 1S62.'" Mr. Locker 

FRTrnTTRTrK- T nrvFR '^ "''^ "f ^^^'-' "^°^^ delightful of the English 

i^ REDERICK i^OCKER, writers of " vers de socidUr arid his poems 

rJorn Io2I. ^„^y ^^ read with pleasure, for his gnyety is 

always sweet and genial. 

THIS relative of mine 
Was she seventy and nine 
When she died ? 
By the canvas may be seen 
How she looked at seventeen, — 
As a bride. 

Beneath a summer tree 
As she sits, her reverie 

Has a charm; 
Her ringlets are in taste, — 
What an arm ! and what a waist 

For an arm ! 

In bridal coronet, 

Lace, ribbons, and coquette 

Falbala; 
Were Romney's limning true. 
What a lucky dog were you. 

Grandpapa ! 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 41- 

Her lips are sweet as love, — 
They are parting ! Do they move ? 

Are they dumb ? — 
Her eyes are blue, and beam 
Beseechingly, and seem 

To say, " Come." 

What funny fancy slips 

From atween ttiese cherry lips ? 

Whisper me, 
Sweet deity, in paint, 
What canon says I may n't 

Marry thee ? 

That good-for-nothing Time 
Has a confidence sublime ! 

When I first 
Saw this lady, in my youth, 
Her winters had, forsooth. 

Done their worst. 

Her locks (as white as snow) 
Once shamed the swarthy crow. 

By-and-by, 
That fowl's avenging sprite 
Set his cloven foot for spite 

In her eye. 

Her rounded form was lean, 
And her silk was bombazine : — 

Well I wot. 
With her needles would she sit, 
And for hours would she knit, — 

Would she not ? 



-42 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



Ah, perishable clay ! 

Her charms had dropt away 

One by one. 
But if she heaved a sigh 
With a burthen, it was "Thy 

Will be done." 

In travail, as in tears. 
With the fardel of her years 

Overprest, — 
In mercy was she borne 
Where the weary ones and worn 

Are at rest. 

I 'm fain to meet you there, — 
If as witching as you were, 

Grandmamma ! 
This nether world agrees 
That the better it must please 

Grandpapa. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 43— 



O NANCY WILT THOU GO WITH ME ? 



Thejollorvifig very lovely song is the composition 
of Bishop Percy, the -well-^ioivn editor of ike 
Reliques of A ncient English Poetry. Burns, 
ivriting of this song, rejnarks. It is "per/taps 
1 728-1 81 1 . the most beautiful ballad in the English lan- 

guage." 



Thomas Percy, 



O NANCY, wilt thou go with me, 
Nor sigh to leave the flaunting town? 
Can silent glens have charms for thee, 

The lowly cot and russet gown ? 
No longer drest in silken sheen, 

No longer deck'd with jewels rare, 

Say, canst thou quit each courtly scene, 

Where thou vvert fairest of the fair ? 



O Nancy ! when thou 'rt far away. 

Wilt thou not cast a wish behind ? 
Say, canst thou face the parching ray. 

Nor shrink before the wintry wind ? 
O, can that soft and gentle mien 

Extremes of hardships learn to bear. 
Nor sad regret each courtly scene, 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 



—44 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 

O Nancy, canst thou love so true, 

Through perils keen with me to go, 
Or when thy swain mishap shall rue. 

To share with him the pang of woe ? 
Say, should disease or pain befall. 

Wilt thou assume the nurse's care 
Nor wistful those gay scenes recall, 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 

And when at last thy love shall die. 

Wilt thou receive his parting breath ? 
Wilt thou repress each struggling sigh, 

And cheer with smiles the bed of death ? 
And wilt thou o'er his breathless clay 

Strew flowers, and drop the tender tear, 
^y^ Nor then regret those scenes so gay 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 45- 



A PARODY. 



Rev. R. H. Barham, 
1 788-1845. 



T/te Rev. Charles Wolfe's immortal Ode, " The 
Burial of Sir Joh}i Moore," was first pub- 
lisJied anonymously in " Currick's Morning 
Post" (Ireland), ift iSij ; and though it at 
once became widely popular, its authorship 
long remained the stcbject of controversy. 
A inong the numero2cs claimants to the au- 
thorship was a certaift soi-disant " Doctor," 
a veterinary surgeon of the name of Mar- 
shall ; and it was to expose afid ridicide his 
pretensions that the following excellent parody 
was written by the Rev. R. H. Barham. 
*' Doctor" Marshall was more remarkable 
for convivial than literary tastes. 



NOT a SOU had he got, not a guinea or note, 
And he looked confoundedly flurried, 
As he bolted away without paying his shot, 
And the landlady after him hurried. 

We saw him again at dead of night, 
When home from the club returning, 

We '' twigg'd " the Doctor beneath the light 
Of the gas-lamp brilliantly burning. 



All bare, and exposed to the midnight dews, 
Reclined in the gutter we found him. 

And he look'd like a gentleman taking a snooze. 
With his Marshall cloak around him. 



—46 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



The Doctor 's as drunk as the d ," we said, 

And we managed a shutter to borrow ; 

We raised him, and sigh'd at the thought that his head 
Would consumedly ache on the morrow. 

We bore him home, and we put him to bed, 
And we told his wife and his daughter 

To give him, next morning, a couple of red 
Herrings, with soda water. 

Loudly they talk'd of his money that 's gone, 

And his lady began to upbraid him ; 
But little he reck'd, so they let him snore on 

'Neath the counterpane just as we laid him. 

We tuck'd him in, and had hardly done, 

When, beneath the window calling. 
We heard the rough voice of a son-of-a-gun 

Of a watchman, " One o'clock," bawling. 

Slowly and sadly we all walk'd down 
From his room in the uppermost story ; 

A rushlight we placed on the cold hearth-stone. 
And we left him alone in his glory. 

Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter lionores. — Virgil. 

I wrote the verses, . . claimed them — he told stories. 

— Thomas Ingoldsby. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 47— 



THE COUNTRY WEDDING. 

Unknown. From " RUson's EfigUsh Songs," 1783. 



WELL met, pretty nymph, says a jolly young swain, 
To a lovely young shepherdess crossing the plain; 
Why so much in haste? (Now the month it was May) 
Shall I venture to ask you, fair maiden, which way ? 

Then strait to this question the nymph did reply, 
With a smile on her look, and a leer on her eye, 
I came from the village, and homeward I go ; 
And now, gentle shepherd, pray why would you know ? 

I hope, pretty maid, you wont take it amiss, 

If I tell you the reason of asking you this ; 

I would see you safe home (the swain was in love), 

Of such a companion if you would approve. 

Your offer, kind shepherd, is civil I own, 
But see no great danger in going alone; 
Nor yet can I hinder, the road being free 
For one as another, for you as for me. 



—48 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 

No danger in going alone, it is true, 

But yet a companion is pleasanter, too ; 

And if you could like (now the swain he took heart) 

Such a sweetheart as me, we never would part. 

! that 's a long word, said the shepherdess then ; 

1 've often heard say, there 's no minding you men : 
You '11 say and unsay, and you '11 flatter, 't is true ; 
Then leave a young maiden, the first thing you do. 

O, judge not so harshly, the shepherd replied; 
To prove what I say, I will make you my bride; 
To-morrow the parson (well said, little swain) 
Shall join both our hands, and make one of us twain. 

Then what the nymph answer'd to this, is not said ; 
The very next morn, to be sure, they were wed. 
Sing hey diddle, ho diddle, hey diddle down. 
Now when shall we see such a wedding in town ! 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 4g— 



ON CHRISTMAS EVE. 

This poem, ilhistrative of old Christmas ctis- 
T?/^T)T7T>T> TTt-DDTz-i' tpms uftd superstitions, is selected from the 

KOBERT DERRICK, .. Hesperides " of Robert Herrick, first pub- 

I59I-IO74. lis hed in 1648. 

COME bring with a noise, 
My merry, merry boys, 
The Christmas log to the firing; 
While my good dame, she 
Bids ye all be free, 
And drink to your heart's desiring. 

With the last year's brand ^ 

Light the new block, and 
For good success in his spending. 

On your psalteries play, 

That sweet luck may 
Come while the log is a teending.^ 

Drink now the strong beer. 

Cut the Avhite loaf here. 
The while the meat is a shredding 

For the rare mince-pie, 

And the plums standing by, 
To fill the paste that 's a kneading. 



^ A portion of the log used to be preserved until the next year, with which 
to light the new block, and the omission to do so was deemed unlucky. 
^ Kindline. 



-so ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 



TO THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET. 



Charles Coivden Clarke relates how durmg a 

visit paid by Keais atid himself to Leigh Hunt, 

December 30, 1S16, the host proposed to Keats 

Leigh Hunt, " tJie challenge of ivriting then, there, atid to 

1 784-181^0. time," a sonnet " On the Grasshopper and the 

Cricket." The following sonnet, ami that on 
the opposite page, were the result of their 
friendly strife. 



GREEN little vaulter in the sunny grass, 
Catching your heart up at the feel of June, 
Sole voice that 's heard amidst the lazy noon. 
When even the bees lag at the summoning brass; 
And you, warm little housekeeper, who class 
With those who think the candles come too soon. 
Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune 
Nick the glad silent moments as they pass; 
Oh, sweet and tiny cousins, that belong, 
One to the fields, the other to the hearth. 
Both have your sunshine; both though small are strong 
At your clear hearts; and both were sent on earth 
To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song : 
In doors and out, summer and winter, Mirth. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 51— 



ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET. 



In this trial Keats zuou as to time ; '■^ but" Mr. 
J T<ri7 T Clarke continues, " -witk all the ki^id and 

J OHN K EATS, gratifying things that were said to hint, Keats 

I795~lS2I. protested to }ne, as we were afterwards walk- 

ing Jw me, that he preferred Hunt's treatment 
to his own." 



THE poetry of earth is never dead: 
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, 
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run 
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; 
That is the grasshopper's — he takes the lead 
In summer luxury, — he has never done 
With his delights; for, when tired out with fun, 
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. 
The poetry of earth is ceasing never : 
On a lone winter evening, when the frost 
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills 
The cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever, 
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost. 
The grasshopper's among some grassy hills. 



-S2 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 



AMINTOR'S VVELL-A-DAY. 



Dr. H. H. Hughes. From the Third Part of ^^ Lwwcs's Ayrcs and 

JJialogiies. lOSa. 



C^HLORIS, now thou art fled away, 
/ Amintor's sheep are gone astray, 
And all the joy he took to see 
His pretty lambs run after thee 
Is gone, is gone, and he alway 
Sings nothing now but well-a-day ! 

His oaten pipe, that in thy praise 
Was wont to sing such roundelays, 
Is thrown away, and not a swain 
Dares pipe or sing within his plain, 
'T is death for any now to say 
One word to him but well-a-day ! 

The may-pole, where thy little feet 
So roundly did in measure meet, 
Is broken down, and no content 
Comes near Amintor since you went. 
All that I ever heard him say 
Was Chloris, Chloris, well-a-day ! 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 53- 

Upon those banks you used to tread, 
He ever since hath laid his head, 
And whisper'd there such pining woe. 
As not a blade of grass will grow, — 

O Chloris, Chloris, come away. 

And hear Amintor's well-a-day ! 



—S4 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY, 



LINES ON HEARING THE ORGAN. 



Froin " Fly Leaves. Nhith Edition. London, 

1883." Mr. Calverlcy ivas certainly one 0/ 

C. S. CaLVERLEY, the most successful and popular poets of a7i age 

18^1-1884. "^ which fcjv poets see many editions; and as 

'^ ' tfie autJwr oj ''Fly Leaves " was well known 

to all zu/tv liked inirth. 



GRINDER, who serenely grindest 
At my door the Hundredth Psahn, 
Till thou ultimately findest 

Pence in thy unwashen palm : 

Grinder, jocund-hearted Grinder, 
Near whom Barbary's nimble son. 

Poised with skill upon his hinder 
Paws, accepts the proffered bun : 

Dearly do I love thy grinding; 

Joy to meet thee on thy road 
Where thou prowlest through the blinding 

Dust with that stupendous load, 

'Neath the baleful star of Sirius, 
When the postmen slowlier jog. 

And the ox becomes delirious, 
And the muzzle decks the dog. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 55-- 

Tell me by what art thou bindest 

On thy feet those ancient shoon: 
Tell me, Grinder, if thou grindest 

Always, always out of tune. 

Tell me if, as thou art buckling 

On thy straps with eager claws, 
Thou forcastest, inly chuckling. 

All the rage that thou wilt cause. 

Tell me if at all thou mindest 

When folks flee, as if on wings. 
From thee as at ease thou grindest : 

Tell me fifty thousand things. 

Grinder, gentle-hearted Grinder! 

Ruffians who led evil lives. 
Soothed by thy sweet strains, are kinder 

To their bullocks and their wives : 

Children, when they see thy supple 
Form approach, are out like shots; 

Half-a-bar sets several couple 
Waltzing in convenient spots ; 

Not with clumsy Jacks or Georges : 

Unprofaned by grasp of man. 
Maidens speed those simple orgies, 

Betsy Jane with Betsy Ann. 

As they love thee in St. Giles's 

Thou art loved in Grosvenor Square 

None of those engaging smiles is 
Unreciprocated there. 



—5^ ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

Often, ere yet thou hast hammer'd 
Through thy four deUcious airs, 

Coins are flung thee by enamour'd 
Housemaids upon area stairs: 

E'en the ambrosial- whisker'd flunky 
Eyes thy boots and thine unkempt 

Beard and melancholy monkey 
More in pity than contempt. 

Far from England, in the sunny 
South, where Anio leaps in foam. 

Thou wast rear'd, till lack of money 
Drew thee from thy vine-clad home: 

And thy mate, the sinewy Jocko, 
From Brazil or Afric came, — 

Land of simoom and sirocco, — 
And he seems extremely tame. 

There he quaff'd the undefiled 
Spring, or hung with apelike glee. 

By his teeth or tail or eyelid. 
To the slippery mango-tree: 

There he woo'd and won a dusky 
Bride, of instincts like his own ; 

Talk'd of love till he was husky 
In a tongue to us unknown : 

' Side by side 't was theirs to ravage 
The potato ground, or cut 
Down the unsuspecting savage 
With the well-aim'd cocoa-nut: — 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. S7— 



Till the miscreant stranger tore him 
Screaming from his blue-faced fair; 

And they flung strange raiment o'er him, 
Raiment which he could not bear: 

Sever'd from the pure embraces 
Of his children and his spouse, 

He must ride fantastic races 
Mounted on reluctant sows : 

But the heart of wistful Jocko 
Still was with his ancient flame 

In the nut-groves of Morocco; — 
Or if not, it 's all the same : 

Grinder, winsome, grinsome Grinder ! 

They who see thee and whose soul 
Melts not at thy charms, are blinder 

Than a trebly-bandaged mole : 

They to whom thy curt (yet clever) 
Talk, thy music, and thine ape, 

Seem not to be joys for ever. 
Are but brutes in human shape. 

'T is not that thy mien is stately, 
'T is not that thy tones are soft ; 

'T is not that I care so greatly 
For the same thing play'd so oft : 

But I Ve heard mankind abuse thee; 

And perhaps it 's rather strange, 
But I thought that I would choose thee 

For encomium, as a change. 



-S8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 



1574-1637. 



THE SWEET NEGLECT. 



This charjning little vtadrigal (from Ben Jon- 
BeN ToNSON son's ^'Silent Woman,'' act i. sc. i, first acted 

^ - ' ' in ibog) is in imitation 0/ a Latin poem 0/ 

Bo7incfonius, hcginnifig, " Semper mtmditias, 
semper Basilissa, decores" etc. 



STILL to be neat, still to be drest, 
As you were going to a feast; 
Still to be powder'd, still perfum'd : 
Lady, it is to be presum'd, 
Though art's hid causes be not found, 
All is not sweet, all is not sound. 

Give me a look, give me a face 
That makes simplicity a grace; 
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : 
Such sweet neglect more taketh me 
Than all th' adulteries of art 
That strike mine eyes, but not my heart. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. S9— 



TO THE LARK. 



From " Hymns of Astrcea, in Acrostic l^erse," 

biR JOHN DAVIES, 75-99. IVritteti i7i praise of Queen Elizabeth, 

1570— 1626. "i^ho is here addressed under the name of 

A strcea. 



E 



ARLY, cheerful, mounting Lark ! 
Light's gentle usher ! Morning's Clerk ! 
In merry notes delighting; 
Stint awhile thy song, and hark, 
And learn my new inditing ! 

Bear up this Hymn ! to heaven, it bear ! 
Even up to heaven, and sing it there ! 
To heaven, each morning bear it ! 
Have it set to some sweet sphere, 
And let the angels hear it! 

Renowned Astr^ea, that great name ! 
(Exceeding great in worth and fame, 
Great worth hath so renowned it) 
It is Astr^a's name I praise! 
Now, then, sweet Lark! do thou it raise: 
And in high heaven resound it ! 



-6o ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



A MESSAGE TO PHILLIS. 



Thomas HeYWOOU, TMs song is extracted fro7n Heywood' s comedy 

I^7e?-i6^0? of '■'^ The Fair Maid of the Exchange, ' ' i6og. 



YE little birds that sit and sing 
Amidst the shady valleys, 
And see how Phillis sweetly walks 

Within her garden alleys; 
Go, pretty birds, about her bower, 
Sing, pretty birds, she may not lower. 
Ah me ! methinks I see her frown. 
Ye pretty wantons, warble. 



Go tell her through your chirping bills. 

As you by me are bidden. 
To her is only known my love, 

Which from the world is hidden : 
Go, pretty birds, and tell her so. 
See that your notes strain not too low; 

For still methinks I see her frown. 
Ye pretty wantons, warble. 



ANTIDOTE A GAINST MEIANCHOI Y. 6i- 

Go tune your voices' harmony, 

And sing I am her lover; 
Strain loud and sweet, that every note 

With sweet content may move her: 
And she that hath the sweetest voice. 
Tell her I will not change my choice; 

Yet still methinks I see her frown. 
Ye pretty wantons, warble. 

O fly, make haste, see, see, she falls 

Into a pretty slumber, 
Sing round about her rosy bed. 

That waking she may wonder; 
Say to her, 't is her lover true. 
That sendeth love to you, to you ; 

And when you have heard her kind reply. 
Return with pleasant warblings. 



—62 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



IN PRAISE OF WINE. 



From " Ritson's English Songs," 1783. This 

song is, however, certainly older t/uin J7S4, 

and as remodelled in our own days, " They 

Unknown. tell me I 've proved unkind to my Lass," is as 

complete a statement of tJie superior (uivan- 
tages of the flask as could be desired by its 
most ardent advocate. 



THE women all tell me I 'm false to my lass, 
That I quit my poor Chloe, and stick to my glass ; 
But to you men of reason, my reasons I '11 own ; 
And if you don't like them, why — let them alone. 

Although I have left her, the truth I '11 declare ; 
I believe she was good, and I 'm sure she was fair ; 
But goodness and charms in a bumper I see, 
That make it as good and as charming as she. 

My Chloe had dimples and smiles, I must own ; 

But though she could smile, yet in truth she could frown ; 

But tell me, ye lovers of liquor divine. 

Did you e'er see a frown in a bumper of wine ? 

Her lilies and roses were just in their prime ; 
Yet lilies and roses are conquer'd by time : 
But in wine, from its age such a benefit flows. 
That we like it the better the older it grows. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 63- 

They tell me my love would in time have been cloy'd, 
And that beauty 's insipid when once 't is enjoy'd; 
But in wine I both time and enjoyment defy ; 
For the longer I drink, the more thirsty am I. 

Let murders, and battles, and history prove 
The mischiefs that Avait upon rivals in love ; 
But in drinking, thank heaven, no rival contends. 
For the more we love liquor, the more we are friends. 

She, too, might have poison'd the joy of my Hfe, 
With nurses, and babies, and squalling, and strife ; 
But my wine neither nurses nor babies can bring; 
And a big-bellied bottle 's a mighty good thing. 

We shorten our days when with love we engage. 

It brings on diseases and hastens old age ; 

But wine from grim death can its votaries save. 

And keep out t' other leg when there 's one in the grave. 

Perhaps like her sex, ever false to their word. 
She had left me to get an estate, or a lord ; 
But my bumper (regarding nor title nor pelf) 
Will stand by me when I can't stand by myself. 

Then let my dear Chloe no longer complain ; 

She 's rid of her lover, and I of my pain ; 

For in wine, mighty wine, many comforts I spy; 

Should you doubt what I say, take a bumper and try. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 



A FICTION. 

HOW CUPID MADE A NYMPH WOUND HERSELF 
WITH HIS ARROWS. 



TMs beautiful poetn, which possesses a classical 
elegance hardly to he expected in the age of 

Francis Davison ? -^^j'^ff ^i " pn^'ted from ^^ a Poetical Rhap. 

-i (■ ■\ sody I002, where 2t appeared signed " A no- 

1 5 75 • 1 1 9 1* j,i„s ' '. ^,j,i if is attributed by Bishop Percy to 

Francis Davison. 



IT chanced of late a shepherd's swain, 
That went to seek a strayed sheep, 
Within a thicket on the plain, 
Espied a dainty nymph asleep. 

Her golden hair o'erspread her face. 
Her careless arms abroad were cast. 

Her quiver had her pillow's place. 
Her breast lay bare to every blast. 

The shepherd stood and gazed his fill ; 

Nought durst he do, nought durst he say; 
When chance, or else perhaps his will. 

Did guide the god of Love that way. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 63- 

The crafty boy that sees her sleep, 

Whom if she waked, he durst not see, 

Behmd her closely seeks to creep. 
Before her nap should ended be. 

There come, he steals her shafts away, 

And puts his own into their place; 
Nor dares he any longer stay. 

But, ere she wakes, hies thence apace. 

Scarce was he gone, when she awakes, 

And spies the shepherd standing by; 
Her bended bow in haste she takes 

And at the simple swain lets fly. 

Forth flew the shaft, and pierced his heart, 
That to the ground he fell with pain ; 

Yet up again forthwith did start. 
And to the nymph he ran amain. 

Amazed to see so strange a sight, 

She shot, and shot, but all in vain ; 
The more his wounds, the more his might ; 

Love yieldeth strength in midst of pain. 

Her angry eyes are great with tears. 

She blames her hands, she blames her skill; 

The bluntness of her shaft she fears. 
And try them on herself she will. 

Take heed, sweet nymph ! try not thy shaft ; 

Each little touch will prick thy heart, 
Alas! thou know'st not Cupid's craft; 

Revenge is joy, the end is smart. 
9 



—66 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 

Yet try she will, and pierce some bare ; 

Her hands were glov'd, but next to hand 
Was that fair breast, that breast so rare, 

That made the shepherd senseless stand. 

That breast she pierced; and through that breast 
Love finds an entry to her heart : 

At feeling of this new-come guest. 

Lord! how the gentle nymph doth start! 

She runs not now, she shoots no more. 
Away she throws both shafts and bow: 

She seeks for that she shunn'd before, 
She thinks the shepherd's haste too slow. 

Though mountains meet not, lovers may; 

What other lovers do, did they: 
The god of Love sate on a tree. 

And laughed that pleasant sight to see. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 67- 



AN OLD SONG OF AN OLD COURTIER 
AND A NEW. 



Unknown. 



Modified in succeeding reigns, the ballad of 
" The Queen [Elizabeth's Old Courtier 
and a New Courtier of the King [James] " 
has already known tzvo hundred atid fifty 
years' poptdariiy. The earliest printed copy 
was probably issued by T. Synicocke, aboitt 
1626. The subject oj this excellent old song is 
a co7nparison between the manners of the old 
gentry iti the titnes of Elizabeth, and the 
moderti refnemcnis affected by tJieir sons in 
the reigns of Iter successors. 



WITH an old song made by an old ancient pate, 
Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a great estate; 
Who kept an old house at a bountiful rate, 
And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate, 

Like an old Courtier of the Qiieen^s, 



With an old lady whose anger one good word assuages, 

Who every quarter pays her old servants their wages, 

Who never knew what belongs to coachman, footmen, and 

pages. 
But kept twenty thrifty old fellows, with blue-coats and 

badges. 

Like an old Courtier of the Queen's. 



—68 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 

With an old study fill'd full of learned books, 

With an old reverend parson, you may judge him by his 

looks, 
With an old buttery hatch worn quite off the old hooks, 
And an old kitchen which maintains half a dozen old cooks ; 

like an old Courtier of the Queen^s. 

With an old hall hung round about with guns, pikes, and bows. 
With old swords and bucklers, which hath borne many shrewd 

blows, 
And an old Frysadoe coat to cover his worship's trunk hose. 
And a cup of old sherry to comfort his copper nose; 

like an old Courtier of the Quee?i's. 

With an old fashion, when Christmas is come. 
To call in his neighbours with bag-pipe and drum. 
And good cheer enough to furnish every old room, 
And old liquor able to make a cat speak, and a wise man dumb; 

Like an old Courtier of the Queen^s. 

With an old hunts-man, a falconer, and a kennel of hounds ; 
Which never hunted nor hawked but in his own grounds. 
Who hke an old wise man kept himself within his own bounds, 
And when he died gave every child a thousand old pounds ; 

Like an old Courtier of the Queen^s. 

But to his eldest son his house and land he assigned, 
Charging him in his will to keep the same bountiful mind, 
To be good to his servants, and to his neighbours kind. 
But in th' ensuing ditty you shall hear how he was inclined; 
Like a young Courtier of the King's. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, dp— 



PART SECOND. 

Like a young gallant newly come to his land, 
That keeps a brace of creatures at 's own command, 
And takes up a thousand pounds upon 's own band. 
And lieth drunk in a new tavern till he can neither go nor stand; 

Like a young Courtier of the King^s. 



With a neat lady that is fresh and fair, 

Who never knew what belonged to good housekeeping or care. 
But buys several fans to play with the wanton air. 
And seventeen or eighteen dressings of other women's hair; 

Like a young Courtier of the King's. 

With a new hall built where the old one stood, 
Wherein is burned neither coal nor wood. 
And a new shuffle-board-table where never meat stood. 
Hung round with pictures which doth the poor little good. 

Like a yoimg Courtier of the King's. 

With a new study stuffed full of pamphlets and plays, 
With a new chaplain that swears faster than he prays, 
With a new buttery-hatch that opens once in four or five days. 
With a new French cook to make kick-shawes and tayes; 

Like a young Courtier of the King's. 

With a new fashion when Christmas is come. 
With a journey up to London we must be gone. 
And leave nobody at home but our new porter John, 
Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a stone ; 

Like a youfig Courtier of the Kiftg^s, 



—70 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 

With a gentleman-usher whose carriage is complete, 
With a footman, a coachman, a page to carry meat. 
With a waiting gentlewoman whose dressing is very neat. 
Who when the master has dined gives the servants little meat ; 
Like a yoimg Courtier of the King's. 

With a new honour bought with his father's old gold, 
That many of his father's old manors hath sold. 
And this is the occasion that most men do hold, 
That good housekeeping is now-a-days grown so cold; 

Like a yowig Courtier of the King's. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 71-^ 



THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN. 



Old songs have rarely, if ever, been modernized 
so successfully as the foregoing o?ie of ' ' The 
Queen s old Courtier," afid " The Fine old 
English Gentlejnan," is no unworthy repre- 
sentative. Popular though it zvas, thirty or 

forty years ago, it is not easily met with now ; 
on which account we hope we may be excused 

for adding it here. 



I'LL sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate, 
Of a fine old English gentleman, who had an old estate. 
And who kept up his old mansion, at a bountiful old rate ; 
With a good old porter to relieve the old poor at his gate, 
Like a fine old E?iglish gentleman^ all of the olden time. 



His hall so old was hung around with pikes, and guns, and bows. 
And swords, and good old bucklers, that had stood against old 

foes; 
'T was there " his worship " held his state in doublet and trunk 

hose. 
And quaffed his cup of good old Sack to warm his good old 

nose; 

Like a fi?ie old E?tglish gentleman, etc. 



—72 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

When winter's cold brought frost and snow, he opened house 

to all; 
And though three score and ten his years, he featly led the 

ball; 
Nor was the houseless wanderer e'er driven from his hall, 
For, while he feasted all the great, he ne'er forgot the small ; 
Like a fine old English gentlenian, etc. 



But time, though sweet, is strong in flight, and years roll swiftly 

by; 
And autumn's falling leaves proclaimed the old man — he must 

die! 
He laid him down right tranquilly, gave up life's latest sigh ; 
While a heavy stillness reign'd around, and tears dimm'd every 

eye. 

Eor this fine old English gentleman, etc. 



Now surely this is better far than all the new parade 
Of theatres and fancy balls, " At Home," and masquerade; 
And much more economical, when all the bills are paid; 
Then leave your new vagaries off, and take up the old trade 

Of a fine old English gentleman, etc. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 73— 



OLDEN LOVE-MAKING. 



Nicholas Breton was a writer of some fame in 

tJte reign of Elizabeth. He is mentioned with 

Nicholas Breton, great respect by Meres in his second part of 

1 1542-1626 ? "JVit's Commonwealth," isq8 ; and is alluded 

to in Beaumojit and Fletcher's ^^ Scornful 
Lady,'' act it. 



IN time of yore, when shepherds dwelt 
Upon the mountam rocks; 
And simple people never felt 

The pain of lovers' mocks; 
But little birds would carry tales 

'Twixt Susan and her sweeting; 
And all the dainty nightingales 

Did sing at lovers' meeting; 
Then might you see what looks did pass 

Where shepherds did assemble ; 
And where the life of true love was 

When hearts could not dissemble. 

Then yea and nay was thought an oath 
That was not to be doubted; 

And when it came to faith and troth 
We were not to be flouted. 

Then did they talk of curds and cream, 
Of butter, cheese, and milk; 
10 



—7^ ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL K 



There was no speech of sunny beam, 

Nor of the golden silk. 
Then for a gift a row of pins, 

A purse, a pair of knives, 
Was all the way that love begins. 

And so the shepherd wives. 

But now we have so much ado. 

And are so sore aggrieved, 
That when we go about to woo 

We cannot be beUeved. 
Such choice of jewels, rings, and chains. 

That may but favour move; 
And such intolerable pains 

Ere one can hit on love, 
That if I still shall bide this life 

'Twixt love and deadly hate, 
I will go learn the country life. 

Or leave the lover's state. 



ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL K 75— 



IN THE GLOAMING. 



C. S. CaLVERLEY, From ^' Fly Leaves. Ninth Edition. London, 

183I-1884. 1883." 



IN the gloaming to be roaming, where the crested waves 
are foaming, 
And the shy mermaidens combing locks that ripple to 
their feet; 
When the gloaming is, I never made the ghost of an endeavour 
To discover — but whatever were the hour, it would be sweet. 

'* To their feet," I say, for Leech's sketch indisputably teaches 

That the mermaids of our beaches do not end in ugly tails, 
Nor have homes among the corals; but are shod with neat 
balmorals. 
An arrangement no one quarrels with, as many might with 
scales. 

Sweet to roam beneath a shady cliff, of course with some 
young lady, 
Lalage, Neaera, Haidee, or Elaine, or Mary Ann: 
Love, you dear delusive dream, you ! Very sweet your victims 
deem you. 
When, heard only by the seamew, they talk all the stuff 
one can. 



— 7<5 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

Sweet to haste a licensed lover, to Miss Pinkerton the glover, 
Having managed to discover what is dear Neaera's " size " : 

P'raps to touch that wrist so slender, as your tiny gift you tender, 
And to read you 're no offender, in those laughing hazel eyes. 

Then to hear her call you " Harry," when she makes you fetch 
and carry — 
O young men about to marry, what a blessed thing it is ! 
To be photographed — together — cased in pretty Russian 
leather — 
Hear her gravely doubting whether they have spoilt your 
honest phiz. 

Then to bring your plighted fair one first a ring — a rich and 

rare one — 

Next a bracelet, if she '11 wear one, and a heap of things 

beside ; 

And serenely bending o'er her, to inquire if it would bore her. 

To say when her own adorer may aspire to call her bride ! 

Then, the days of courtship over, with your wife to start for 
Dover 
Or Dieppe — and live in clover evermore, whate'er befalls: 
For I 've read in many a novel that, unless they 've souls that 
grovel. 
Folks prefer in fact a hovel, to your dreary marble halls : 

To sit, happy married lovers ; Phyllis trifling with a plover's 
Egg, while Corydon uncovers with a grace the Sally Lunn, 

Or dissects the lucky pheasant — that, I think, were passing 
pleasant ; 
As I sit alone at present, dreaming darkly of a Dun. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 77— 



THE DUMB MAID. 



This tnerry ditty has continued to enjoy favour 

to tlie present time, lingerittg in tnauy a 

quiet coujitry 7iook, and adding point to innu- 

ll-K!VK!f\wjtj merable sarcasms against the not " rara avis 

UJNKiNUWJN. ^y^ terra" a Scolding Wife. —Our copy is from 

' a black-letter ballad printed about l6j8, and 
included in tJie Roxburghe Collection in the 
British Museum. 



ALL you that pass along, give ear unto my song, 
Concerning a Youth that was young, young, young; 
And a maiden fair, few with her might compare. 
But alack., and alas / she was dumb., dumb, dumb. 



She was beauteous, fresh, and gay, Hke the pleasant flowers in 
May, 

And her cheeks were as round as a plum, plum, plum, 
She was neat in every part, and she stole away his heart; 

But alack, and alas / she was dumb, dumb, dumb. 



At length this Country Blade wedded this pretty Maid, 
And he kindly conducted her home, home, home. 

Thus in her beauty bright lay all his whole delight; 
But alack, and alas ! she was dumb, dumb, dumb. 



—7c? ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

Now will I plainly show what work this maid could do, 
Which a pattern may be for girls young, young, young. 

O she, both day and night, in working took delight. 
But alack^ and alas ! she was dufub^ dutnb, dwiib. 

She could brew and she could bake, she could wash, wring, 
and shake. 

She could sweep the house with a broom, broom, broom; 
She could knit, and sew, and spin, and do any such like thing. 

But alack^ and alas! she was dumb, dumb, dumb. 

But at last this man did go, the doctor's skill to know. 
Saying, " Sir, can you cure a woman of the dumb, dumb, 
dumb?" 

" O it is the easiest part that belongs unto my art. 
For to cure any woman of the diPfib, du?nb, dumb.^^ 

To the doctor he did her bring, and he cut her chattering-string. 
And he quickly set her tongue on the run, run, run. 

In the morning she did rise, and she filled his house with cries. 
And she rattled in his ears like a drum, drum, drum. 

To the doctor he did go, with his heart well filled with woe, 
Crying, '' Doctor, I am certainly undone, done, done ! 

Now she 's turned a scolding wife, and I 'm weary of my life, 
Nor I cannot make her hold her tongue, tongue, tongue ! " 

The doctor thus did say, " When she went from me away, 
She was perfectly cured of the dumb, dumb, dumb; 

But it 's beyond the art of man, let him do the best he can. 
For to make a scolding woman hold her tofigue, to7igue, 
tongue ^^ 



ANTIDOTE A GAINST MELANCHOL V. 7p— 



THE HUNT IS UP.'* 



Among the favorites of Henry VIII., Putien- 

ham, in his '■^ Arte of English Poesie," is8g, 

notices " one Gray, for tnaking certain merry 

ballades, whereof one chiefly was, ' The hunte 

Uncertain ^^ ^'^' hunte is up.' " Ittnay be that the 

following song is the very one written by 
Gray, since ''Harry our King" is twice men- 
tioned in it. A ny song intefuled to arouse in 
the morning — even a love song — was for- 
fnerly called a " hunt 's up." 



THE hunt is up, the hunt is up, 
And it is well nigh day; 
And Harry our King is gone hunting, 
To bring his deer to bay. 



The east is bright with morning light. 

And darkness it is fled, 
And the merie home wakes up the morne 

To leave his idle bed. 



Behold the skyes with golden dyes 

Are glowing all around, 
The grasse is greene, and so are the treene 

All laughing at the sound. _ 



^8o ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY, 



The horses snort to be at the sport, 
The dogges are running free, 

The woddes rejoyce at the mery noise 
Of hey tantara tee ree ! 

The sunne is glad to see us clad 

All in our lustie greene, 
And smiles in the skye as he riseth hye, 

To see and to be seene. 

Awake, all men, I say agen, 

Be mery as you maye, 
For Harry our King is gone hunting, 

To bring his deere to baye. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 8i— 



ON AN OLD MUFF. 



Frederick Locker, Thhjoem by Mr Locker was first ptiblishedjn 

-r, Q iSoS, (i7ia IS taken jrom '^London Lyncs — 

t)Orn IS2I. (latest edition, 1876). 



TIME has a magic wand! 
What is this meets my hand, 
Moth-eaten, mouldy, and 

Covered with fluff? 
Faded, and stiff, and scant ; 
Can it be ? no, it can't ~ 
Yes, — I declare 't is Aunt 
Prudence's Muff! 



Years ago — twenty-three ! 
Old Uncle Barnaby 
Gave it to Aunty P. — 

Laughing and teasing — 
'•' Pru., of the breezy curls, 
Whisper these solemn churls. 
What holds a pretty girVs 

Ha7id without squeezing?^' 
II 



—82 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

Uncle was then a lad 
Gay, but, I grieve to add, 
Sinful : if smoking bad 

Baccy 's a vice : 
Glossy was then this mink 
Muff, lined with pretty pink 
Satin, which maidens think 

" Awfully nice ! " 

I see, in retrospect. 

Aunt, in her best bedecked. 

Gliding, with mien erect. 

Gravely to Meetmg : 
Psalm-book, and kerchief new, 
Peeped from the muff of Pru. — 
Young men — and pious, too — 

Giving her greeting. 

Pure was the life she led 

Then — from this Muff, 't is said. 

Tracts she distributed: — 

Scapegraces many. 
Seeing the grace they lacked, 
Followed her — one, in fact, 
Asked for — and got his tract 

Oftener than any. 

Love has a potent spell! 
Soon this bold ne'er-do-well. 
Aunt's sweet susceptible 

Heart undermining. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 83— 

Slipped, so the scandal runs, 
Notes in the pretty nun's 
Muff — triple-cornered ones — 
Pink as its lining ! 

Worse even, soon the jade, 
Fled (to obUge her blade!) 
Whilst her friends thought that they 'd 

Locked her up tightly : 
After such shocking games 
Aunt is of wedded dames 
Gayest — and now her name 's 

Mrs. Golightly. 

In female conduct flaw 

Sadder I never saw, 

Still I 've faith in the law 

Of compensation. 
Once Uncle went astray — 
Smoked, joked, and swore away — 
Sworn by he 's now, by a 

Large congregation! 

Changed is the Child of Sin, 
Now he 's (he once was thin) 
Grave, with a double chin, — 

Blest be his fat form! 
Changed is the garb he wore, — 
Preacher was never more 
Prized than is Uncle for 

Pulpit or platform. 



—84 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 



If all 's as best befits 
Mortals of slender wits, 
Then beg this Muff, and its 

Fair owner, pardon: 
All's for the best, — indeed. 
Such is my simple creed, — 
Still I must go and weed 

Hard in my garden. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 85- 



KING OBERON'S FEAST. 



This poem was printed in "A Description of 

the Kifigand Queen of Fairies ; their habit, 

fare, their abode, pojnp, and state. Being 

Robert HeRRICK very delightful to the sense, atidfodl of mirth." 

_/- ' l(>33- Tfie" Feast," the only one, of the sev- 

159 1 1074. eral poems contained in this book, which can 

be assigned with absolute certainty to Herrick, 
was, it is believed, the poet's earliest appear- 
ance in print. 



A LITTLE mushroom-table spread, 
After short prayers, they set on bread; 
A moon-parch'd grain of purest wheat, 
With some small glitt'ring grit, to eat 
His choice bits with; then in a trice 
They make a feast less great than nice. 
But all this while his eye is served, 
We must not think his ear was starved : 
But that there was in place to stir 
His spleen, the chirping Grasshopper; 
The merry Cricket, puling Fly, 
The piping Gnat for minstrelsy. 
And now, we must imagine first, 
The Elves present to quench his thirst 
A pure seed-pearl of infant dew, 
Brought and besweeten'd in a blue 



—86 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

And pregnant violet; which done, 

His kitlingi eyes begin to run 

Quite through the table, where he spies 

The horns of papery butterflies : 

Of which he eats, and tastes a little 

Of what we call the cuckoo-spittle.- ' 

A little fuz-balP pudding stands 

By, yet not blessed by his hands. 

That was too coarse; but then forthwith 

He ventures boldly on the pith 

Of sugared rush, and eats the sag 

And well bestrutted* bee's sweet bag: 

Gladding^ his palate with some store 

Of Emmet's ^ eggs : what would he more ? 

But beards of mice, a newt's '' stewed thigh, 

A bloated ear- wig, and a fly; 

With the red-capped worm, that 's shut 

Within the concave of a nut, 

Brown as his tooth. A litde moth, 

Late fatten'd in a piece of cloth : 

With withered cherries; mandrakes' ears; 

Moles' eyes; to these, the slain-stag's tears; 

The unctuous dewlaps of a snail; 



^ Eyes like kittens (green). 

2 The white froth which encloses the larva of the cicada spumaria. 

3 Puff-balls, or fungus. 

* "Sag" means "heavy," so as to hang down. The meaning here is — 
He eats the pith of the sweet " Rush " and the bag of the bee. The flight 
of a bee to her hive is thus graphically described — /. c, ^^ sagged down " with 
the weight of her spoils. The word bestrutted is equally descriptive of the 
laden bee labouring along, with legs stuck out, like " struts," or props. 

^ Pleasing, i. e., tickling. ^ Ant. ''' Small lizard. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 87- 



The broke-heart of a nightingale 

O'ercome in musick; with a wine, 

Ne'er ravish'd from the flatt'ring vine, 

But gently pressed from the soft side 

Of the most sweet and dainty bride, 

Brought in a dainty daisy, which 

He fully quaffs up to bewitch 

His blood to height; this done, commended 

Grace by his Priest ; the feast is ended. 



^88 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 



A CHRISTMAS SONG. 



T/te oM almanacks occasionally contained carols. 
Unknown. The following is from "Poor Robifi's Al- 

vtanack "for ibgj. 



NOW thrice welcome Christmas, 
Which brings us good cheer, 
Minc'd pies and plum-porridge. 

Good ale and strong beer ; 
With pig, goose, and capon, 

The best that can be, 
So well doth the weather 
And our stomachs agree. 



Observe how the chimnies 

Do smoke all about. 
The cooks are providing 

For dinner, no doubt; 
But those on whose tables 

No victuals appear, 
O may they keep Lent 

All the rest of the year ! 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. c?p— 

With holly and ivy 

So green and so gay ; 
We deck up our houses 

As fresh as the day, 
With bays and rosemary 

And laurel complete, 
And every one now 

Is a king in conceit. 



12 



—po ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



TO DAFFODILS. 



Robert HerRICK, Surely there is no _fioiver-/>oein at once so 

ICQI-l67d. ivcighty and so sweet, so lovely and also hn- 

-'-' ''+• pressive, so consnntviate in its art atid endur- 

ing in its charm as this one o/Herrick's. 



FAIR Daffodils, we weep to see 
You haste away so soon : 
As yet the early-rising sun 
Has not attained his noon. 

Stay, stay 
Until the hasting day 

Has run 
But to the even-song; 
And, having prayed together, we 
Will go with you along. 

We have short time to stay, as you, 

We have as short a Spring; 
As quick a growth to meet decay, 

As you or any thing. 
We die, 

As your hours do, and dry 
Away, 

Like to the summer's rain ; 
Or as the pearls of morning's dew. 

Ne'er to be found again. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, pz- 



THE CHILD MUSICIAN. 



Austin DoBSON, From ^^ Vignettes in Rhyme" 1873. 

Born 1840. 



HE had played for his lordship's levee, 
He had played for her ladyship's whim, 
Till the poor litde head was heavy. 
And the poor little brain would swim. 



And the face grew peaked and eerie, 
And the large eyes strange and bright, 

And they said — too late — "He is weary! 
He shall rest for, at least, To-night! " 

But at dawn, when the birds were waking. 
As they watched in the silent room. 

With the sound of a strained cord breaking, 
A something snapped in the gloom. 

'T was a string of his violoncello, 

And they heard him stir in ■ his bed : — 

" Make room for a tired little fellow. 

Kind God!" — was the last that he said. 



—g2 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



THE BITER BIT. 

A PARODY. 

"■^ The Biicr Bit," from the "Bon Gnultier 
Ballads" 1843, by Theodore Martin and 
Professor Aytoiin, is a kind 0/ burlesque 
cotitiniiatioti of the " May Queen" the tender 
patlws o/tJu: original being turned into cynical 
indifferetuc, whilst preserzdng a great simi- 
larity of style and versification. 

THE sun is in the sky, mother, the flowers are springing 
fair, 
And the melody of woodland birds is stirring in the air; 
The river, smiling to the sky, glides onward to the sea, 
And happiness is everywhere, oh mother, but with me! 

They are going to the church, mother, — I hear the marriage 

bell; 
It rises o'er the upland, — it haunts me like a knell; 
He leads her on his arm, mother, he cheers her faltering step, 
And she clings closely to his side, she does, the demirep! 

They are crossing by the stile, mother, where we so oft have 

stood, — 
The stile beside the thorn at the corner of the wood ; 
The boughs, that oft have echoed back the words that won 

my ear. 
Now bend their blossoms o'er him as he leads his bridal fere. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, pj— 

He will pass beside the stream, mother, where first my hand 

he pressed, 
By the meadow where, with quivering Hp, his passion he 

confessed ; 
And down the hedgerows where we 've strayed again and 

yet again; 
Yet he will not think of me, mother, his broken-hearted Jane ! 

He said that I was proud, mother, he said I looked for gold ; 
He said I did not love him, — that my words were few and 

cold; 
He said I kept him off and on, in hopes of higher game, — 
And it may be that I did, mother; but who has n't done the 

same ? 

I did not know my heart, mother, — I know it now too late ; 
I thought that I without a pang could wed some nobler mate; 
But no nobler suitor sought me, — and he has gone elsewhere. 
And my heart is gone, and I am left to wither in despair. 

You may lay me in my bed, mother, my head is throbbing sore ; 
And, mother, prithee let the sheets be duly aired before ; 
And, if you would do pleasure to your poor desponding child, 
Draw me a pot of beer, mother, and, mother, draw it mild ! 



—g4 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



THE JOLLY BACCHANAL. 



Unknown. From " Walsh's British Musical Miscellany.' 



LET 'S tope and be merry, be jolly and cherry, 
Since here is good wine, good wine ; 
Let 's laugh at the fools that live by dull rules, 
And at us good fellows repine, 

And at us good fellows repine. 

Here, here, are delights to amuse the dull nights. 

And equal a man with a god ; 
To enliven the clay, drive all care away. 

Without which a man 's but a clod. 

Then let us be wilHng to spend t' other shilling. 

Since money we know is but dirt; 
It suits no design like paying for wine, 

T' other bottle will do us no hurt. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, ps- 



UNFADING BEAUTY. 



TAz's beautiful little sonnet is reprinted frotn a 

small volume entitled " Poems by Thomas 

Thomas CaREW, Carew, Esq., one of the getitlemcn of the 

1589-1639. privie-chamber, and sewer in ordinary to his 

majesty. London, 1640." We have otnitted 
the third stattza as not being of equal merit. 



HE, that loves a rosy cheek, 
Or a coral lip admires. 
Or from star-like eyes doth seek 

Fuel to maintain his fires, 
As old time makes these decay, 
So his flames must waste away. 

But a smooth and steadfast mind, 
Gentle thoughts and calm desires, 

Hearts with equal love combined, 
Kindle never-dying fires. 

Wliere these are not, I despise 

Lovely cheeks, or lips, or eyes. 



— p^ ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 



TO CHLOE JEALOUS. 



Matthew Prior, 
1664-1721. 



DEAR Chloe, how blubber'd is that pretty face ! 
Thy cheek all on fire and thy hair all uncurl'd! 
Prithee quit this caprice, and (as old Falstaft' says) 
Let us e'en talk a little like folks of this world. 



How canst thou presume thou hast leave to destroy 
The beauties which Venus but lent to thy keeping ? 

Those looks were design'd to inspire love and joy : 
More ord'nary eyes may serve people for weeping. 

To be vexed at a trifle or two that I writ, 

Your judgment at once, and my passion you wrong : 

You take that for fact which will scarce be found wit : 
Odslife ! must one swear to the truth of a song ? 

What I speak, my fair Chloe, and what I write shows 
The diff 'rence there is betwixt nature and art : 

I court others in verse ; but I love thee in prose : 
And they have my whimsies, but thou hast my heart. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY, 97- 

The God of us verse men (you know child) the Sun, 
How after his journeys he sets up his rest : 

If at morning o'er earth 't is his fancy to run ; 
At night he recUnes on his Thetis's breast. 

So when I am wearied with wand'ring all day ; 

To thee my delight in the evening I come : 
No matter what beauties I saw in my way : 

They were but my visits; but thou art my home. 

Then finish, dear Chloe, this pastoral war; 

And let us like Horace and Lydia agree: 
For thou art a girl as much brighter than her, 

As he was a poet sublimer than me. 



13 



—g8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOIY. 



THE CONSTITUTION AND THE GUERRIERE. 



Unknown. 



The naval battle which this song celebrates 
was /ought on A ugjtst rgth, iSi2, between the 
Ajnerican frigate Constiijition, commanded 
by Captain Isaac Hull, and his Britannic 
ISIajcsty' s frigate Gucrriere, Captain Dacres; 
— after a sevej-e and bloody engagetnent last- 
ing only halfa?i Jiour the latter surrendei-ed. 



I 



OFTEN have been told, 
That the British seamen bold 
Could beat the tars of France, neat and handy, O; 
But they never found their match, 
Till the Yankees did them catch — 
For the Yankee tars for fighting are the dandy, O ! 

O, the Gucrriere so bold. 

On the foaming ocean roll'd. 
Commanded by Dacres the grandee, O ! 

With as choice a British crew 

As a rammer ever drew. 
They could beat the Frenchmen two to one, so handy, O ! 

When this frigate hove in view ; 
" O," said Dacres to his crew, 
" Prepare ye for action and be handy, O : 

On the weather-gauge we '11 get her. 
And to make the men fight better 
We will give to them gunpowder and good brandy, O." 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, pp. 



Now this boasting Briton cries, 
" Make that Yankee ship your prize, 
You can in thirty minutes do it handy, O : 

Or in twenty-five I 'm sure ; 

If you '11 do it in a score, 
I '11 give you a double share of good brandy, O. 

" When prisoners we 've made them, 
With switchel we will treat them ; 

We '11 welcome them with Yankee Doodle Dandy, O " : 
O, the British balls flew hot. 
But the Yankees answered not. 

Until they got a distance that was handy, O. 

" O," cries Hull unto his crew, 
" We will try what we can do : 
If we beat those boasting Britons we 're the dandy, O." 
The first broadside we pour'd 
Brought the mizzen by the board. 
Which doused the royal ensign quite handy, O. 

O, Dacres he did sigh. 
And to his officers did cry, 
" O ! I did n't think the Yankees were so handy, O." 
The second told so well, 
That the fore and main-mast fell. 
That made this lofty frigate look quite dandy, O. 

"O!" said Dacres, "we 're undone": 

So he fires a lee gun. 
And the drummers struck up Yankee Doodle Dandy, O. 

When Dacres came on board, 

To deliver up his sword 
He was loth to part with it, it look'd so handy, O. 



—lOO ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

" You may keep it," says brave Hull ; 
" What makes you look so dull ? 
Cheer up and take a glass of good brandy, O." 
O, Britons now be still. 
Since we 've hook'd you in the gill : 
Don't boast upon your Dacres, the grandee, O. 

Come, fill your glasses full, 

And we '11 drink to Captain Hull, 

And so merrily we '11 push about the brandy, O. 
John Bull may toast his fill. 
Let the world say what it will, 

But the Yankee boys for fighting are the dandy, O, 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. loi- 



"COME, SHEPHERDS, DECK YOUR HEADS. 



Unknown. 



This is one of the songs meutiotied by genial old 
Izaak Waliofi in " Tlie Complete Angler," 
1653. — Milkwoman: " What song was it, I 
pray ? was it ' Come, shepherds, deck yozir 
heads'; or, 'As, at noon Didcina rested'; 
or, ' Phillida flouts tne' ; or, ' Chevy Chace'; 
or, 'Johnny A rmstrong' ; or, ' Troy Town ' ?" 



COME, Shepherds, deck your heads 
No more with bays but willows; 
Forsake your downy beds. 

And make the downs your pillows r 
And mourn with me, since crossed 

As never yet was no man, 
For shepherd never lost 
So plain a dealing woman. . 

All ye forsaken wooers, - 

That ever care oppressed, 
And all you lusty dooers. 

That ever love distressed, 
That losses can condole. 

And all together summon;' 
Oh! mourn for the poor soul 

Of my plain-dealing woman. ^ 



—I02 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



Fair Venus made her chaste, 

And Ceres beauty gave her; 
Pan wept when she was lost, 

The Satyrs strove to have her; 
Yet seem'd she to their view 

So coy, so nice, that no man 
Could judge, but he that knew 

My own plain-deaUng woman. 

At all her pretty parts 

I ne'er enough can wonder; 
She overcame all hearts. 

Yet she all hearts came under; 
Her inward mind was sweet, 

Good tempers ever common ; 
Shepherd shall never meet 

So plain a dealing woman. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, 103- 



THE BROWN JUG. 



It is somewhat remarkable that the two best 

Rev. Francis FaWKES, drinking songs in our language were both by 

' clergymen; the following by hev. rrancts 

1 72I-1 777' Fawkes, and tJiat on page 1 8 by John Still, 

bishop of Bath and Wells ; 1^43-1607. 



DEAR TOM, this brown jug, that now foams with mild ale, 
(In which I will drink to sweet Nan of the Vale) 
Was once Toby Fillpot, a thirsty old soul 
As e'er drank a bottle or fathomed a bowl; 
In boosing about 't was his praise to excel, 
And among jolly topers he bore off the bell. 

It chanced, as in dog-days he sat at his ease. 
In his flower-woven arbour, as gay as you please. 
With a friend and a pipe, puffing sorrows away. 
And with honest old Stingo was soaking his clay. 
His breath-doors of life on a sudden were shut. 
And he died full as big as a Dorchester butt. 

His body when long in the ground it had lain. 

And time into clay had resolved it again, 

A potter found out in its covert so snug, 

And with part of fat Toby he formed this brown jug; 

Now sacred to friendship, to mirth, and mild ale. 

So here 's to my lovely sweet Nan of the Vale. 



.I04 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



THE LOVE PARTING. 



" Frofn Afiacreon down to Moore," says 

Michael Drayton, Henry Reed speaking of this sonnet, "/ 

, ^ ' ktiow of no lines on the old subject oj lovers 

^ 5"3~^ "3 ^ • quarrels distinguished/or equal tenderness of 

sentiment and richness of fancy. " 



SINCE there 's no help, come let us kiss and part,- 
Nay, I have done, you get no more of me ; 
And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, 
That thus so cleanly I myself can free; 
Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows, 
And when we meet at any time again. 
Be it not seen in either of our brows 
That we one jot of former love retain. 
Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath. 
When, his pulse failing. Passion speechless lies, 
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death, 
And Innocence is closing up his eyes, — 
Now if thou would'st, when all have given him over. 
From death to life thou might'st him yet recover ! 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 105— 



LOVE'S ANNIVERSARY. 



To THE Sun. 



From " Castara : The Third Edition. Cor- 

WlLLIAM HaBINGTON, rected and augmented. 1640:' This work, 

(■ (■ one of the most elegant 7nonu7nents ever 

1005—1045. raised by genius to conjugal affection," says 

Mrs. Jameson, wasffrst published in 1634. 



THOU art returned, great light, to that blest hour 
In which I first by marriage, sacred power, 
Joined with Castara heart: and as the same 
Thy lustre is, as then, so is our flame; 
Which had increased, but that by love's decree 
'T was such at first it ne'er could greater be. 
But tell me, glorious lamp, in thy survey 
Of things below thee, what did not decay 
By age to weakness ? I since that have seen 
The rose bud forth and fade, the tree grow green 
And wither, and the beauty of the field 
With winter wrinkled. Even thyself doth yield 
Something to time, and to thy grave fall nigher; — 
But virtuous love is one sweet endless fire. 



14 



-io6 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 



'^PHYLLIDA, THAT LOVED TO DREAM." 



John Gay, 
I 688-1 732. 



PHYLLIDA, that loved to dream 
In the grove, or by the stream ; 
Sigh'd on velvet pillow. 
What, alas ! should fill her head, 
But a fountain, or a mead, 
Water and a willow ? 

Love in cities never dwells. 
He delights in rural cells 

Which sweet woodbine covers. 
What are your assemblies then ? 
There 't is true, we see more men ; 

But much fewer lovers. 

O, how changed the prospect grows! 
Flocks and herds to fops and beaux. 

Coxcombs without number! 
Moon and stars that shone so bright; 
To the torch and waxen light. 

And whole nights at ombre. ^ 



A fashionable game of the period. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 107- 



Pleasant as it is to hear 
Scandal tickling in our ear, 

E'en of our own mothers; 
In the chit-chat of the day 
To us is paid, when we 're away, 

What we lent to others. 

Though the favourite Toast I reign, 
Wine, they say, that prompts the vain, 

Heightens defamation. 
Must I live 'twixt spite and fear. 
Every day grow handsomer. 

And lose my reputation ? 

Thus the fair to sighs gave way, 
Her empty purse beside her lay. 

Nymph, ah! cease thy sorrow. 
Though curst Fortune frown to-night, 
This odious town can give delight. 

If you win to-morrow. 



—io8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 



SONG OF IN-THE-WATER. 



H. CnOLMONDELEY — PENNELL. 



Long/elloTv's "Song of HiawatJm " certainly 
invites parody, and its easy metre is readily 
caught up by a?iy one having an ordinarily 
good ear, and knack of versification. Tlie 
fijllowing imitation of it is from ' ' Puck on 
Pegasus" London, 1868. 



WHEN the Slimmer night descended, 
Sleepy on the White- witch water, 
Came a Uthe and lovely maiden, 
Gazing on the silent water — 
Gazing on the gleaming river — 
With her azure eyes and tender, — 
On tlie river glancing forward. 
Till the am'rous wave sprang upward. 
Upward from his reedy hollow. 
With the lily in his bosom, 
With his crown of water-lilies — 
Curhng ev'ry dimpled ripple 
As he sprang into the starlight. 
As he clasped her charmed reflection 
Glowing to his crystal bosom — 
As he whispered, " Fairest, fairest, 
Rest upon this crystal bosom ! " 

And she straightway did according : — 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. log— 



Down into the water stept she, 
Down into the wavering river, 
Like a red deer in the sunset — 
Like a ripe leaf in the Autumn : 
From her lips, as rose-buds snow-filled. 
Came a soft and dreamy murmur, 
Softer than the breath of summer. 

Softer than the murm'ring river. 

Than the cooing of Cushawa, — 
Sighs that melted as the snows melt. 

Silently and sweetly melted; 
Sounds that mingled with the crisping 

Foam upon the billows resting: 

Yet she spoke not, only murmured. 

From the forest shade primeval, 
Piggey-Wiggey looked out at her; 
He, the very Youthful Porker — 
He, the Everlasting Grunter — 
Gazed upon her there, and wondered! 
With his nose out, Rokey -pokey — 
And his tail up, Curley-wurley, 
Wondered what on earth the joke was. 
Wondered what the girl was up to, 
What the deuce her little game was. 
Why she did n't squeak and grunt more ! 

And she floated down the river. 

Like a water-proof Ophelia, 

For her Crinoline sustained her. 



•no ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



GOD REST YOU, MERRY GENTLEMEN. 



There is no carol, perJia/>s, so universally known 

as this. Many who have heard no other arc 

Jatniliar iviih this, and speak of it as Tlie 

Unknown. Christmas Carol. While there are several 

variations in the different copies of this carol, 
the version here printed seems the inost gener- 
ally received, and is perhaps t/te most genuine. 



GOD rest you, merry gentlemen, 
Let nothing you dismay, 
Remember Christ, our Saviour, 
Was born on Christmas-day ; 
To save us all from Satan's power, 
When we were gone astray. 
O tidings of comfort and Joy, 
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was 
Born of Christtnas-day . 

In Bethlehem, in Jewry, 
This blessed babe was born. 

And laid within a manger 
Upon this blessed morn; 

The which His mother Mary 
Did nothing take in scorn. 
O tidings, etc. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY, in— 

From God, our Heavenly Father, 

A blessed Angel came. 
And unto certain shepherds 

Brought tidings of the same ; 
That there was born in Bethlehem 

The Son of God by name. 
O tidings, etc. 

" Fear not," then said the Angel, 
" Let nothing you affright, 
For there is born in Bethlehem 

Of a pure Virgin bright. 
One able to advance you. 

And throw down Satan quite." 
O tidings, etc. 

The shepherds, at those tidings. 

Rejoiced much in mind. 
And left their flocks a-feeding 

In tempest, storm, and wind. 
And straightway went to Bethlehem 

The Son of God to find. 
O tidings^ etc. 

But when they came to Bethlehem, 

Where as this Infant lay. 
They found Him in a manger, 

Where oxen feed on hay. 
His mother Mary kneeling down. 

Unto the Lord did pray. 
O tidings, etc. 



'112 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 

With sudden joy and gladness 
The shepherds were beguiled, 

To see the Babe of Israel, 
Before His mother mild. 

O then with joy and cheerfulness 
Rejoice, each mother's child. 
O tidings^ etc. 

Now to the Lord sing praises, 

All you within this place, 
And with true love and brotherhood 

Each other now embrace. 
This holy tide of Christmas 

All others doth deface. 
O tidi?igs, etc. 

God bless the ruler of this house. 

And send him long to reign. 
And many a merry Christmas 

May he live to see again 
Among his friends and kindred 

That live both far and near; 

And God send you a happy New Year. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 113-^ 



DRINKING SONG. 



Unknown. • From *'Ritson's English Songs," 1783. 



HAD Neptune, when first he took charge of the sea, 
Been as wise, or at least been as merry as we. 
He 'd have thought better on 't, and, instead of his brine^ 
Would have filled the vast ocean with generous wine. 

What trafficking, then, would have been on the main. 
For the sake of good liquor, as well as for gain ! 
No fear then of tempest, or danger of sinking ; 
The fishes ne*er drown that are always a-drinking. 

The hot, thirsty Sun then would drive with more haste, 
Secure in the evening of such a repast ; 
And when he 'd got tipsy would have taken his nap. 
With double the pleasure in Thetis's lap. 

By the force of his rays, and thus heated with wine, 
Consider how gloriously Phoebus would shine; 
What vast exhalations he 'd draw up on high, 
To relieve the poor earth as it wanted supply. 

15 



—114 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

How happy us mortals when bless'd with such rain, 
To fill all our vessels, and fill them again ! 
Nay, even the beggar that has ne'er a dish. 
Might jump in the river and drink like a fish. 

What mirth and contentment in every one's brow. 
Hob as great as a prince dancing after the plow ! 
The birds in the air, as they play on the wing, 
Although they but sip, would eternally sing. 

The stars, who I think don't to drinking incline. 
Would frisk and rejoice at the fume of the wine ; 
And, merrily twinkling, would soon let us know 
That they were as happy as mortals below. 

Had this been the case, what had we then enjoy 'd. 
Our spirits still rising, our fancy ne'er cloy'd ! 
A plague, then, on Neptune, when 't was in his power, 
To slip, like a fool, such a fortunate hour. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 115— 



LITTLE BO-PEEP. 



The follo'wing is from a little volume of poems 
H. ChOLMONDELEY-PeNNELL. by Mr. Cholmondeley-Pennell, entitled ''From 

Grave to Gay ." London, 1884. 



LITTLE BO-PEEP has lost her sheep," 
And some one or other 's lost little Bo-peep — 
Or she 'd never be wand'ring at twelve o'clock 
With a golden crook and a velvet frock, 
In a diamond necklace, in such a rout, — 
In diamond buckles and high heel'd shoes 
(And a dainty wee foot in them, too, if you choose, 
And an ankle a sculptor might rave about . . . .) 
But I think she 's a little witch, you know. 
With her broomstick-crook and her high-heel'd shoe 
And the mischievous fun that flashes thro' 
The wreaths of her amber hair — don't you? 
No wonder the flock foUows little Bo-peep, — 
Such a shepherd would turn all the world into sheep, 
To trot at her heels and look up in the face 
Of their pastor for — goodness knows what, say for grace ? 
Her face that recalls in its reds and its blues. 
And its setting of gold, " Esmeralda " by Greuze. . . . 



There you 've Little Bo-peep, dress, diamonds, and all. 
As I met her last night at the Fancy Ball, 



—ii6 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY. 



THERE IS A LIGHT." 



Mr. Young is a well-known merchant in New 

York City, whose business duties seldom per- 

]^^ £)_ Young. mit him to drop into poetry. His Muse in this 

ittsiatice was doubtless inspired by the ex- 
cellence of the subject. 



THERE is a Light whose brightness vies 
With any planet in the skies; 
That shines with kindlier lustre, far, 
Than Venus in her silvery car; 
For while this orb but coldly gleams, — 
Ne'er shining, save with borrowed beams. 
That Light, Promethean, warmly glows, — 
Man's blessing in a world of woes ! 
More useful, often, is that Light, 
Than Phoebus' ardent rays, so bright ; 
And while this sounds like fiction vain, 
Let me its truthfulness maintain: — 
The sun departs at close of day 
And leaves behind no lingering ray. 
Ah! then the skeptic well may guess 
The '' Astral's " greater usefulness ! 

Blest "Astral" oil! thy flood of light 
Dispels the gloom of blackest night; 
In peaceful homes, where love is queen. 
How prized thy merits, bright, serene ! 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 117— 

The old and young of every clime, 
Around the hearth at even-time, 
Both rich and poor, engaged howe'er, 
Thy great beneficence declare. 
Thy motto stands, in letters bright, 
Safety, Economy, Delight ! 
No dread explosion dims thy fame. 
No horrid smell infests thy name; 
Health, weal, and pleasure all attend. 
And in thy presence hap'ly blend. 

Then let us, e'er another e'en. 
Discard both Gas and Kerosene, 
And free our minds from all the care 
They force us constantly to bear. 
Their danger, trouble, and expense 
Must surely drive them quickly hence, 
And yield before the truth and might 
Of Pratt's celestial "Astral" Light. 



-ii8 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. 



TABLE OF FIRST LINES. 



A BLITHE and bonny country-lass, . 

A little mushroom-table spread, .... 

All you that pass along, give ear unto my song, 

Although I am a country lass. 

Away ; let nought to love displeasing, 

C^HLORIS, now thou art fled away, 

Come bring with a noise, .... 

Come, shepherds, deck your heads, 

Dear Chloe, how blubber 'd is that pretty face ! 

Dear Tom, this brown jug, that now foams with mild ale, 

Early, cheerful, mounting Lark, 

r AIR Amoret is gone astray, 
Fair daffodils, we weep to see, 

(jroD rest you, merry gentlemen. 
Golden slumbers kiss your eyes, 
Gorbo, as thou cam'st this way, . 
Green little vaulter in the sunny grass. 
Grinder, who serenely grindest, . 

liAD Neptune, when first he took charge of the 
He had played for his lordship's levee, 
He lived in that past Georgian day, . 
He, that loves a rosy cheek, 

I CANNOT eat but little meat, 
I often have been told. 



II 

85 
77 
30 
35 

52 
49 

lOI 

96 
103 

59 

27 
90 

no 
16 
13 

50 
54 

"3 
91 

22 

95 

18 
98 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MEIANCHOLY, 



iip-^ 



I '11 sing you a good old song, made by a good old pate, 

In good King Charles's golden days, 

In the gloaming to be roaming, 

In time of yore, when shepherds dwelt, . 

It chanced of late a shepherd's swain, 

Let 's tope and be merry, be jolly and cherry, . 
Little Bo-peep has lost her sheep. 

My true love hath my heart, and I have his, 

IM OT a sozi had he got, not a guinea or note, 

Now thrice welcome Christmas, .... 

Nancy, wilt thou go with me, . 

Phyllida, that loved to dream, 
Phyllis, men say that all my vows, . 

oiNCE there 's no help, come let us kiss and part, 
Still to be neat, still to be drest, 

1 HE glories of our birth and state, 
The hunt is up, the hunt is up, 
The poetry of earth is never dead. 
There is a Light whose brightness vies. 

The sun is in the sky, mother, the flowers are springing fair 

The women all tell me I 'm false to my lass, . 

This relative of mine, ..... 

Thou art returned, great light, to that blest hour. 

Time has a magic wand ! . 

Well met, pretty nymph, says a jolly young swain. 
When the summer night descended. 
With an old song made by an old ancient pate, 
Women are books, and men the readers be, 

Y E little birds that sit and sing. 



71 

37 
75 
73 
64 

94 
[15 

17 



45 
88 



43 

106 
29 

104 
58 

20 
79 
51 
1 16 
92 
62 
40 

105 
81 

47 

108 

67 

28 

60 




—120 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 



ratt's astral oil. 

In a circular issued June 30th, 1882, 
by the New -York State Board of 
Health, there appears the astounding 
statement, ** It is estimated that up- 
wards of thirty thousand lives have 
been destroyed by the explosive quali- 
ties of petroleum." The introduction of 
PRATT'S ASTRAL OIL was the first 
practical check given to this wholesale 
destruction of life. Fifteen years ago, 
all burning oils made from petroleum were so unsafe 
that there was danger of their sale being prohibited by 
legislation. The demand was for a good illuminating 
oil that could be relied on as absolutely safe. After 
a long series of experiments, conducted at a large ex- 
pense, we discovered a way to meet this public want. 
This was the origin of the celebrated PRATT'S 
ASTRAL OIL, the first safe and reliable illuminating 
oil ever made ; and although many millions of gallons 
have annually been sold since its introduction, no 
person has ever suffered by an accident from its use, 
nor has any Insurance Company paid a dollar for loss 
occasioned by it. It was originally sold at 60 cents 
per gallon, but by the improved processes of manu- 
facture, necessitated by the largely increasing demand, 
we are enabled now to furnish it at a price within 
the means of the poorest family. Why, then, should 
any risk be taken in the choice of a burning oil, 
when PRATT'S ASTRAL OIL can be obtained for 
^so small a cost? 




ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOIY. i2i- 



ratt's gasolene. 

There is assuredly no better method 
of illumination for suburban residences, 
hotels, mills, and other large buildings 
than by means of Gas Machines. A most 
excellent and reliable quality of Gas can 
thus be obtained at a cost varying from 
about 75 cents to a little over $i.oo for 
light fully equal to looo feet of Coal Gas, 
or less than one-half the price usually 
charged for that article. No trouble at- 
taches to their use, as most of them are automatic in their 
operation. Of these Machines, there are several varieties, 
differing both in their construction and operation, and 
possessing, of course, varying degrees of merit. Our 
acquaintance with the respective qualifications of each 
and our long familiarity with the subject may enable 
us to suggest the one best adapted for any required 
purpose, should any of our readers contemplate purchas- 
ing one. 

We accordingly invite correspondence on this sub- 
ject, and shall be pleased at all times to furnish full 
information about Gas Machines and all matters per- 
taining to the question of Gasolene Gas. 

GASOLENE. — Nothing is so essential to the sat- 
isfactory and successful operation of Gas Machines as 
good Gasolene. Fluid of inferior quality is often offered 
for sale that is positively injurious to Gas Machines, 
and consumers will save themselves much trouble and 
expense by purchasing only a well-known and reliable 
article, and from responsible parties. — ^The best goods 
are invariably the cheapest in the end, and especially 
i6 



—122 ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 

is this true of Gasolene. Good Gasolene cannot — like 
Kerosene Oil — be obtained from every dealer or even 
from every manufacturer. 

Where consumers are unable to secure Pratt's Patent 
Prepared Gasolene from their present source of supply, 
if they will send their orders direct to us, they will be 
served promptly and with strict attention to their needs. 

After an experience of more than fifteen years in the 
manufacture and sale of Gasolene, during which time we 
have furnished probably four-fifths of the entire quantity 
consumed in this market, we fully understand the require- 
ments of customers, and respectfully solicit the patronage 
of those who desire strictly reliable goods. 

^ratfs Rouble ^Distilled 

& deodorized (^JSTapkt has. 

The attention of all who use any of these goods in 
the arts and manufactures is invited to our own prod- 
ucts, of the various gravities, from 62^ to 'jG'^ Beaume, 
inclusive. These are prepared with the greatest care, and 
will be found especially desirable for manufacturers of 
Varnishes, Mixed Paints, Oil-cloths, Rubber and Enamel 
Goods, Window-shades, etc.; also for Druggists' use, and 
every purpose requiring a perfectly pure and sweet article. 
We are prepared to furnish them in any quantity, by the 
single barrel or car-load, and are confident that all who 
are critical as to quality will be well pleased with them. 

BOULEVARD GAS FLUID. —We distill a 
special grade of Naphtha (which we market under this 
name), for use in what are known as Naphtha or Vapor 
Burners, for street-lamps, a large number of which are 
now in use for lighting the streets of many cities and 
towns here and in foreign countries. 



ANTIDOTE AGAINST MELANCHOLY. 123. 



C'(gnoog, 



/"^O^ Little Book, to subtle world, 
\_J' And show thy simple face, 
And forward pass, and do not turn 

Again to our disgrace. 
For thou shall brifig to people's ears 

But truth, that needs not blush; 
And though perchance thou geVst rebuke, 

Care not for that a rush : 
For evil tongues do itch so sore, 

They must be rubbing still 
Against their teeth, that should hold fast 

The clapper of the 7nill. 
Desire that man that likes thee Jiot 

To lay thee down again. 
Till some sweet ?iap and harmless sleep 

Hath settled troubled brain. 




Press of Theo. L. De Vinnc ^ Co. New - York. 



A PARADISE OF DA IN TIE DEVICES. 

A Paradise of Daintie Devices: A Collection of 
Poems, Songs, and Ballads, by various hands. At 
New- York: Imprinted for Charles Pratt & Co., at 46 
Broadway, near Trinity Church-yard. Christmas, 1882. 



Opinions of the Press. 

" Advertising has become a literary art. Charles Pratt & Co. have pre- 
pared for circulation among their customers in the oil trade an excellent 
collection of poems, songs, and ballads. Printed on heavy paper with 
broad margins, and furnished with an enticing title, ' A Paradise of Daintie 
Devices,' it is an artistic souvenir for the holiday trade." ***** 
— New- York Tribune, Dec. ij, 1882. 

" A beautiful little volume, bearing the quaint and not modern title of * A 
Paradise of Daintie Devices,' is published by Charles Pratt & Co., oil manu- 
facturers. It contains poems, ancient and modern, English, Irish, and 
American, selected with taste and printed in a fitting manner. It is an 
agreeable and curious product of the Christmas season." — New -York Smi, 
Dec. Jj, 1882. 

"The 'aesthetic' devices of tradesmen to attract attention are usually so 
odious that one is ready to forget the advertising purpose of so pretty, well- 
chosen, and well-printed a budget of verse as the ' Paradise of Daintie 
Devices : A Collection of Poems, Songs, and Ballads,' distributed by Charles 
Pratt & Co." * * * * * —The Nation, Dec. 14, 1882. 

'* One of the prettiest books of the season is an advertisement of Pratt's 
Astral Oil, etc. 'A Paradise of Daintie Devices' it is called — the daintiest 
device being the harmless deception practiced upon the reader. It is a well- 
chosen collection of poems, songs, and ballads, dating from Richard Crashaw 
to T. B. Aldrich; and it is printed in Francis Hart & Co's best style." — 
The Critic, Dec. 16, 1882. 



"Esthetics in advertising can go no farther. *A Paradise of Daintie 
Devices,' which is a choicely culled selection of* Poems, Songs, and Ballads,' 
is done up in an ordinary stiff brown-paper cover, but so quaintly entitled 
thereon, with ornamental initials, and head and tail piece, that the eye is at 
once pleasantly attracted. The contents prove to include many poetical 
favorites, and some selections not familiar, but all in good taste and discover- 
ing proper critical judgment. The reader is, however, astounded when, on 
reaching the last pages, he discovers that the whole undertaking is a Christ- 
mas gift from Charles Pratt & Co., manufacturers of oil. And truly a most 
suitable and symbolical recognition of the amount of oil — Pratt's Astral, and 
other, of the midnight species more particularly — that has been burned in 
the cause of literature." — The A7nerican Bookseller, Dec. 75, 1882. 

" A very unique publication is a ' Paradise of Daintie Devices,' being a 
collection of Poems, Songs, and Ballads, by various hands. It contains a 
few standard poems by well-known authors, with several ancient and some 
modern ballads, and is very cleverly got up in antique style. It bears the 
following imprint: 'At New-York: Imprinted for Charles Pratt & Co., at 
46 Broadway, near Trinity Church-yard. Christmas, 1882.'" — New -York 
Obsen'ery Dec. 21, 1882. 

" Astral oil has had its chief claim on literature in the light it shed on the 
student ; but this winter it has shone out over ' A Paradise of Daintie De- 
vices,' issued by Charles Pratt & Co. to their friends and customers. The 
wide-margined, rough-edged, brown-covered, antique-typed anthology of 102 
small quarto pages which bears this title is, take it all in all, one of the aptest, as 
it is one of the costliest, advertisements ever indulged in by a firm whose choice 
of this method is, in its way, an equal compliment to the perceptions of its 
patrons and proof of its own high taste. It is surprising, when one remem- 
bers the senseless sums wasted on lithographing of all orders and colors, 
that this dainty device of enlisting the best of literature in the service has 
never before been adopted." — Philadelphia Press, Dec. 22, 1882. 

"'A Paradise of Daintie Devices,' etc. Although issued gratuitously as a 
souvenir to the patrons of the publishers, this is an unique specimen of book- 
making; it is gotten up in antique style, with quaint head and tail pieces, 
printed on fine linen paper, with broad margin and uncut edges. It contains 
some charming poems and ballads from the early poets, and also from modern 
writers." — The Publishers'' Weekly, New- York, January ij, i88j. 

'* A beautiful little volume, bearing the uncommon title of * A Paradise of 
Daintie Devices,' is published by Charles Pratt & Co., oil manufacturers. It 
is curious, quaint, and aesthetic to a degree." — Brooklyn (N. Y.) Eagle. 




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